The nothings, the nobodies/ Anthony Doerr
“There are two kinds of death,” he says, the clouds of his breath plunging out into the cold. “You can fight like a lion. Or you can go as easy as lifting a hair from a cup of milk. The nothings, the nobodies—they die easy.”
I died last Friday; well, I almost did.
Last Friday at 1:30 in the afternoon I died. Well, miraculously I’m not dead. I was loading the shopping cart onto the forklift at the front door of my building, and I don’t know what happened. It was a freak accident. The cart might have backed up and pushed me back, and I stepped on […]
