My daughters run across the hard-packed sand, their blonde hair—Maureen's hair—streaming out behind them. They are three little replicas of my wife. As always, the worry grips my heart with icy ... [+]
A police vanhas beenoverturnedand the Burger Kingon the corneris burning,and if youabsorbthe oily blacksmoke,willfullybreathe it in,your heartmuscleswill seize upand your familydesert you,you'll foreverbe marked downin the bookas an arsonist,a looter,a so-called"outside agitator,"who made,for a while,this murderingold worldto tremble.