The Book of Boy, by Catherine Gilbert Murdock
(Spoilers)
"Hello, milord." I spoke with my mind, as I speak to all creatures.
From somewhere within the broken skull, he answered. "Hello, Boy. My, you have grown."
I smiled. "Yes, milord. I'm an angel, it seems."
"An angel? How grand. Do you . . . know where my wife is? I can't seem to find her."
I blinked back tears. "I am sorry, milord. She awaits you in heaven."
Sir Jacques trembled, reaching -- I clasped his hands. How I used to marvel at his hands, the palms as calloused as tree bark. How his skin was so soft. "Shh."
"You were always so good. Help me, Boy."
I wrote about this book that there's no hooptedoodle. But boy, there is. The last two pages made me weep.
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