High noon at the OK Corral. Except it’s the dead of night and neither of us is armed. He doesn’t even look particularly threatening, unlike earlier tonight when he was channeling Dirty Harry. He looks old and tired, the lines bracketing his mouth deep as fissures in a rock face.  ...
I read on, curious to know what had driven Delilah to such despair. I can’t live with the guilt any longer. It was my fault that Eric died. He went flying that day because I goaded him into it. I said I hoped his plane would crash, that it would save me the trouble of divo...