“at two in the morning, I walked down boundary street to carteret. it was close to freezing as I watched the moon fingerpaint the beaufort river with a long ribbon of silver. I was freezing and could not have cared less. I made the sign of the cross when passing by st. peter’s catholic church and picked up the pace as I crossed bay street and skipped on to the lady’s island bridge. I passed no cars and encountered no pedestrians. I was singing a citadel fight song as loudly as I could when a voice rang out above me.”
– pat conroy, my losing season