The Bone Collector

I find bones all the time, everywhere. Dead animals, small ones, probably cats or dogs but also big bones, maybe from a cow or horse. They are so beautiful, old and white and clean. That’s why I don’t want to be cremated, I want my bones and teeth to remain in the earth, and I want someone to undig them one day.

And wonder to whom they belonged.

But then someday the truth would come out. It always did. Repress what you will, someday the truth comes out.

Jeffery Deaver
The Bone Collector