Changelings

"Each human life possesses certain sensitivities, dove-pecked injuries, that are never noted by the casual observer, like invisible cracks in amber."
--Gyula Krudy


I finished Sunflower by Krudy over the weekend. Awash in its intense imagery, there was a shudder. A fear. I have a grave concern that slowly, the inscription of all this reading is being effaced by a galactic wind. There is an understood inevitability here. I can groan and point to T.S. Eliot about the return to the point of origin. Sure.