“Some people can’t handle your level of awesome…”

 

“He hated winter. The same gray sky lay on the ground, day after day, gray as industrial smoke, and in the sky the ground floated like a street that's been salted, and his closets were cold, holes wore through his pockets, and he was lonely, indoors and out, with a loneliness like the loneliness of overshoes or someone else's cough.”

― William H. Gass, In the Heart of the Heart of the Country and Other Stories