Page Fifty-two
Greenfield...
All is status quo. I go to Turners to haunt what was my own life. I wait on a waiting list for a tiny apartment in a small institutional building in Turners, which I will hate. I've never lived that way. There will be no animals. I'll continue murdering minutes away as I've done for the past nineteen months, but I don't live. Not in any meaningful sense of the word. I exist. Matthew is still here, and we are still estranged, which we will remain. I have the one human friend, D.
My daughter's father has killed himself, and I grumble in a dark envy that this long-absent person was able to do what I haven't been able to do: to end the misery. I'm much smarter than he was, and educated, and much more sensitive than he was. Why could he do this simple and final ending of misery, and I can't.
Not Human
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