Publisher's Synopsis
â_~I have nobody but myself to blame for being in packed snugs in the small hours where snuff and spirits were doing the rounds, in a burned church where we were spirits ourselves, in that school opened specially on a Sunday where we were allowed to be children briefly, at that stone on the side of a thoroughfare that bears the last names of half the town, in the shops that survive only in memory, for eavesdropping on an Act of Contrition, for being a bona fide on licensed premises sheltering from hurricanes and snow and droughts. For every moment of that weather I give thanks. I would go out into it all again.â_T