Between the birds racketing in the Zoo, and Little Brown Jug booming overhead, Ferdousine’s feet numb-fumbling on the hardwood floor, and that moron in the street with his megaphone announcing the Last Days, And I heard a great voice out of the temple saying to the seven angels, Go your ways, and pour out the vials of the wrath of God upon the earth, how could she keep her mind on Billie and Bo? Worse, the TV was on the blink. A 14-inch Zenith, black-and-white, she’d had it forever, and now it was letting her down. Every time that Billie raised her voice, she turned to snow. And she was raising her voice a lot. Which was only human; her whole future was on the line. Considering all she’d been through, the incest and the drug addiction and the porn films, not to mention getting arrested for Curtis’ murder, it was inspiring how far she’d come already. But were her troubles really done? Would Bo ever get over Hope? Or would there always be this shadow? Finding him lounging in Hope’s bra and panties was not a good sign, you couldn’t pretend it was.
