95.
   The dogs dragged me into the city. I staggered through its streets stunned and empty like a condemned man on his way to the gibbet. The searing beauty of the town was warped by my despair. The buildings seemed to bend and sway. The sidewalks buckled. Was she alright? Did she save herself? Was she killed? I couldn’t catch my breath. I was sweating profusely.
   “Look at this town. Isn’t it beautiful?”, encouraged Pat.

   “This is our life, Oliver, our world.”, said Nanette. “We must live for those who have gone before us. We owe it to them. It doesn’t matter how tough life is. It can always be worse or you’re dead. You have to decide whether you’re here to experience the ride, every inch of it or not, OR NOT, because we don’t know what’s on the other side, what’s after, so there is no other side. If you decide you want to be alive, if you can dig yourself out of the misery of now and somehow find the joy of being alive, then keep on living because despite all its horrors and disappointments, it is a gift. It’s all we know. It’s us. It’s life. If you can figure that out, if you can accept the gift of life then give it back to the world. If someone, anyone listens to you then you haven’t lived in vain and you can move on to face no matter what’s next. I know you have experienced great pain in your life. You would not be here if you had not. We all have experienced great pain. We had a family once, Oliver, Pat and I, six children. They are dead, all dead.”
   Strain creased Pat’s eyes over his forced smile. “Look at those pinks and yellows! Look at that grill work!"