From chapter: Christian Matters
It was like he’d finished a drink at the bar one late winter night and opened the door to a perpetual hangover. He sensed the end of an era, with him standing at the finish line wondering why the hell he had not taken those beautiful detours leading to winding roads across nameless mountains and fleeting crystal rivers. He’d never strayed, and fearfully, he regressed into a state of constant rumination. Mainly, he thought if he would end up like his father—halfheartedly living with a sigh and an empty stare at his children like he watched television—but no, he had not strayed. The Great Mandino had seen something. Christian remembered the strength and vigor in his gray eyes, as if he’d noticed the lies propelling aspiration. Yet, Christian Matters had never strayed. Until his death that had not been his death.
But the culmination of ambition.
—Alexander Helas •