
I walked out of a childhood friend‘s funeral and into the bookstore and stared at the shelves with no makeup left and the feeling that I existed adjacent to the rest of the world, looking for a distraction. I saw Icarus on the shelf, recognized the cover and bought it without looking much further than the paragraph on the back. Then I devoured it in many different sittings, carrying it around with me for a month and a half like a security blanket.























































