John Steinbeck

Nothing Good Gets Away by Rebecca Tillett

It's startling and even profoundly jarring how suddenly feelings of such fear and crushing defeat can sneak up on me; how small and alone I can feel in this painfully short and so quickly passing lifetime.

Sometimes life is nothing but a blur. Sometimes I think I'm predisposed to my father's eventual hopeless and fundamentally relenting inclination.

(Or worse even, my mother's living fear of being simply alone with herself.)

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