“… you could tell he loved her when he busted into the room like that it just takes a second to look at the eyes the face to see that nothing that dead without a family look almost not the mourning for itself anymore but that sorrow of all the others to follow those with the same mourning…”

a sort of vision of hell?”

“yeah, man, the richest role reversal of all an identity switched at birth and all it boils down to is good or bad who are you when someone asks, ‘are you good?’ and what love is this when it has so much unhappiness!  You give and it is not good because some loves can only cause you pain your trial of earth because there’s something wrong there something when you love and it hurts because who or what you love doesn’t love you back or it does but you just can’t feel it you can’t feel anything where you are and you see that was on his face when he busted in that room with a shotgun this time alone no one else from downstairs from the bar just himself and what he wanted to see on the other side of that door so I could see what was on his face—almost a vision of a man and a lonely sound a deep moan with arms stretched out a reaching out from a dark abyss that insane wall between good and bad pain and forgiveness to say, ‘I believe in God.  It is why I do this and what is remembered of all my words.  That is all I want…’  But you see he opened that door because he wanted it to be too late not because it was too late but because he wanted it to be what he thought it had to be when you put your love into a woman…”