The people in the hospital had been struck by her calm and the number of questions she had asked. They hadn't appreciated her inability to understand something quite obvious – that Tonya was no longer among the living. Her love was so strong that Tonya's death was unable to affect it: to her, he was still alive. She was mad, but no one had noticed. Now, at last, she had found Tonya. Her joy was like that of a mother-cat when she finds her dead kitten and licks it all over. A soul can live in torment for years and years, even decades, as it slowly, stone by stone, builds a mound over a grave; as it moves towards the apprehension of eternal loss and bows down before reality.

Life and Fate