really want another crow, Kent?"
"I really do.
Can you find one?"
" Kent, we'll
find a crow. We'll go day after tomorrow."
Thus there are
now three Barrys. The first a ghost bird fluttering in 23 memories. The second
Barry is with Kent in McLean, Va. ("I only want to take one. I want to take
good care of him.") The third Barry is here, at this precise moment sitting
outside the window, squawking for Ky to hurry up with another serving of
Thus, also, are
vows pointless that neither comfort nor restore the dead, worn at graveside and
broken when they conflict with the real needs of those who live.