
How I Stole My Brother's Death And My Father's Grief
"I don’t know if I remember my brother anymore. I think that the act of writing him, of making him, has become the memory."
"I don’t know if I remember my brother anymore. I think that the act of writing him, of making him, has become the memory."
"I don’t know if I remember my brother anymore. I think that the act of writing him, of making him, has become the memory."