Only once in a generation does anything as fresh as a vomiting detective come along.
Sorrow is not a raven perched persistently above a chamber door. Sorrow is a thing with teeth, and while in time it retreats, it comes back at the whisper of it's name.
Chronologically she is twelve, but emotionally she is older, and intellectually older still.
In times as turbulent as these, but also in the seeming humdrum of daily life, which always proved to be more meaningful and consequential in retrospect, each of us needed to rely on people of constant character and truths that were immutable.
This is reality, tofu man, because reality is what we carry in our hearts, and my heart is full of beauty just for you.
Sometimes the heart makes decisions the mind cannot, and though we know that the heart is deceitful above all things, we know that at rare moments of stress and profound loss it can be purged pure by suffering.