He closed his eyes and the night ran together in his mind and he remembered the rifle in the corner and thought: I'll throw it in the creek tomorrow. I never want to see it again. He would be asleep soon. He saw himself standing on the hill and throwing his rifle into the creek; then the creek became an ocean, and he stood on a high cliff and for a moment he was a mighty angel, throwing all guns and creulty and sex and tears into the sea.
Andre Dubus, "The Intruder"
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