Somehow the realization that nothing was to be hoped for had a salutary effect upon me. For weeks and months, for years, in fact, all my life I had been looking forward to something happening, some extrinsic event that would alter my life, and now suddenly, inspired by the absolute hopelessness of everything, I felt relieved, as if a great burden had been lifted from my shoulders.
Then the coup de grace. Al Wood, driving, one on one against Sampson. Sampson leaps to block as Al Wood pumps, slides under the basket and drops in a reverse lay up. When consciousness returns, Al Wood has 39 points, the Heels win by 13, and however fate would play its dirty game, the world is turned right side up. Naked people dance on Franklin Street.
We know something at the same time — we need to get out quick, Hal is already out, and Chuck is out on the other side, Anne and I are scrambling out, then we’re in the middle of the road in a little group, all looking at the illuminated bird. As the bird stands still in the air, I get an old ecstatic feeling of being overcome.