Show me a hero and I will write you a tragedy. —F. Scott Fitzgerald 

Christine, Christine, don’t think that I don’t care,
But every hope and every prayer rests on you now.


C: Those picnics in the attic! Father playing the violin.
As we read to each other dark stories of the North.

No, what I love best, Lotte said,
Is when I’m asleep in my bed.