I’m not interested in some theoretic sermon that ends with a hope and prayer, Dad. I need to hear something real. Something that literally broke the fabric of your life. A story that ends with proof of life instead of some wishy-washy platitude.
They would debate every subject under the infinite karoo sky, from the time the chameleons stalked the sun, to when the crickets began their nocturnal orchestra.
Broken cities and bridges can be rebuilt, Lindy, but a building without power will eventually become derelict and fall into a state of decay. If left too long it will be earmarked for demolition.
