The accountant lingers at his children’s doorway a moment more, listening to the easy rhythm of their breathing, and something cold moves through him, like the passage of a ghost – but he know that’s not it. It’s more like the portent of a future. A future that must never come to pass……and for the first time, he gives rise to a thought that is silently echoed in millions of homes that night. My God… what have we done?

Report Quote Report Quote Report Quote Submit Quote Submit Quote Submit Quote