ctuary" burne
this strained peace, befor
x document on his lapt
e university
eye. "Sanctuary."
chael wasn' t the typ
," our daughter' s name
bled as I typed
journal entries, poems.
duate s
spirit," h
intellect
y life with him, as "munda
o a woman who couldn' t
lies were jus
rve a universe of thoug
illiant mind," a mi
, years ago, when he was str
sections, polishing his arguments
ng contacts from my old marketing ca
l he now stood on, the one
cold wave washed over
ng of our entire life together, a rewriting of o
For him a
s the antecha
, the click echoing
ayal was
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