In another photo they are standing out in front of the house, and the house itself is surrounded by a throng—all the living children and grandchildren and greats and all their husbands and wives—a vast army of family. I thought, I share genes with all these dead people. These long-forgotten dead people.
Someday, I’ll be forgotten, too.
Damn.
More or less. I'm using an image of the old Mick house on the cover of Burnt House. Literature is immortal....
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