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Quote by Ian Ochieng

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Ian Ochieng

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“I have a habit, before leaving my flat in Prague, of checking three times to make sure I’ve shut off the gas stove, that I’ve turned off the lights in the bathroom and the water closet, and that I’ve locked the door, and then I go back once more to check on everything a fourth time, and so now, though I knew that nothing but my swan could possibly be lying there under the snow, I still brushed the snow away with trembling hands and saw the curve of her wing, and I went on brushing the snow away and yes, there was her neck, then I elbowed my way back like a sloth, and now nothing ached anymore but my heart, and so I crawled back from the riverbank to the swan again, and then again, trying to brush away more and more snow from that beautiful snowbound creature who, perhaps for my sake alone, had arranged herself in my sight so that I cried out into the dark morning and realized, bitterly, that the king of Czech comedians could go to claim his advance for this story, not to the Writers’ Publishing House, but to the very center, not of death, but of hell itself, where I will suffer pangs of guilt and remorse and shame that will pursue me into eternity, into the very heart of incalculable consequences.”

“Sylvia leans against the railing of her porch, keeping a lookout for the little girl. She can hear Jamie’s anger echo in the night. The shrillness of his tires on the hot summer pavement, the sting of his words. She sighs, knowing that like a flood this was inevitable and that it would happen again and again and all that would remain would be bruises and teeth and a half drunk beers where there shouldn’t be. This is always how it is with Jamie—a hurricane, a flood, a natural disaster. A mess, but never a mess as cruel as tonight. She has to cut him out. She can climb on her own.”