[It's the sort of thing that might have made Charlotte smile, a few short weeks ago. He is trying. As though she didn't show them all how broken she's become, as though she isn't an acceptable casualty to at least a myriad-in-one of them now, he's trying.]
It doesn't make sense. Not. Not you, the book. But nothing here does.
no subject
It doesn't make sense. Not. Not you, the book. But nothing here does.