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