“
David Wroblewski, The Story of Edgar Sawtelle (169-170)They worked hard to distract one another whenever they recognized bleakness descending. Edgar pulled Trudy to the kitchen table to play checkers and eat popcorn. One night she snuck his entire liter into the house without waking him. In the morning, when he opened his eyes, eight dogs lifted their heads to look at him.
Edgar opened The Jungle Book* and discovered that, for the first time since the funeral, he could concentrate enough to read. And reading was more comfort than anything else. “Kaa’s Hunting.” “Tales of the Bander-Log.” It didn’t matter. It touched the old life, the life before.
