Monday, May 20, 2013

the last book I ever read (Tenth of December by George Saunders, excerpt two)

from Tenth of December: Stories by George Saunders:

Well, that was sad. The sickness of a kid was—children were the future. He’d do anything to help that kid. If one of the boys had a bent foot, he’d move heaven and earth to get it fixed. He’d rob a bank. And if the boy was a girl, even worse. Who’d ask a clubfoot or bentfoot or whatever to dance? There your daughter sat, with her crutch, all dressed up, not dancing.

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