He hid his face with both hands and began to cry. Dr. Thompson said nothing and looked away. Carlita realized she was shaking, and eased herself back into her chair. She, like Dr. Thompson, turned her head to look at something else, anything else, and her eyes settled on the wooden straight-backed chair in the corner. It sat beneath the window, though which she could see the busy traffic of Pinehurst Highway, the cars moving in quick succession in a river of steel and plastic and tempered glass.
of Human Remains, an accidental text.