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Quote by Dean H. Wild

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The Crymost

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Dean H. Wild

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“She’d kissed Jamie on the cheek and cried when, at last, he was out of sight. Months later, off at Denison, she sat with classmates and watched the draft lottery live on the grainy common-room television. Jamie’s birthday—March 7—had come up on the second pick. So he would be among the first to be called to fight, she thought, and she wondered where he had gone, if he knew what awaited him, if he would report, or if he would run. Beside her, Billy Richardson squeezed her hand. His birthday was one of the last drawn, and anyway, as an undergraduate, he had been granted a deferral. He was safe. By the time they graduated, the war would be over and they would marry, buy a house, settle down. She had no regrets, she told herself. She’d been crazy to have considered it even for a moment.”

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“Längtan efter det som har gått förlorat river upp ett sår i mig. Varför tillbringar jag så stor del av livet med att längta efter någon annat? Varför är jag inte tacksam över allt som har inträffat mig? Varför vaknar jag missnöjd och går och lägger mig olycklig? Varför hindrar jag mig själv från att leva? Spelar det ens någon roll, längre? Det som en gång var min framtid ligger obönhörligen bakom mig.”

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