Moonsong Glacier worship

I have helped others with their strife and grief.

He wanted to ask, how about me? but it sounded far too pathetic even inside the safety of his head.

God.

He shuffled mindlessly through a deck of other pointless sentences, running over each other like rabid crowds of spectators over baseball game turnstiles: I shouldn't have— I didn't want to— I—

In the end he settled on, I don't know how you do it, his face subdued with rage, envy, awe.

Mom worried about you, up until the very end.

His father had never raised his voice in anger, but it was just one more thing that complicated Abe's view of him. At times, it looked almost noble; other times, it looked like an unbearable admission of weakness.