“For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and melt into the sun. And what is it to cease breathing but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek god unencumbered. Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then you shall truly dance.”
I'm sure Dun is dancing today. He was a star on earth, and will be a star in heaven.
We grieve the loss of an important member of the ebook community. We will remember you forever, dear friend.
For the Fairsteins-
GUY ANDMARISA,
LISA ANDMARC
With love, laughter, and admiration
To be buried while alive is, beyond question, the most terrific of… extremes which has ever fallen to the lot of mere mortality… We know of nothing so agonizing upon Earth-we can dream of nothing half so hideous in the realms of the nethermost Hell.
– Edgar Allan Poe
The Premature Burial
1
I looked at the pool of dried blood that covered the third-floor landing of a brownstone on one of the safest residential blocks in Manhattan and wondered how the young woman who'd been left here to die yesterday, her chest pierced by a steak knife, could still be alive this afternoon.
Mercer Wallace crouched beside the stained flooring, pointing out for me the smaller areas of discoloration. "These smudges, I figure, are partial imprints of the perp's shoe. He must have lost his footing over there."
The blood streaked away from the door of the victim's apartment, as though her attacker had slid in the slippery fluid and stumbled to the top of the staircase.