"If it comes to that," he said, "there'll be no preventing it." He uttered it as I listened. Had I got it right, hearing him? "If it comes to that," is what he said, and, as if talking to himself, went on about how there'd be no preventing it. He came to that conclusion, saying it in a slow way of coming to that, whatever that was it might come to before not being prevented—and as if such a thing were for him the unthinkable, and would prevail, if it came to that. And while listening more closely now to what he said, I realized if no one paid him heed, it would be as if he hadn't said it—if it came to that— and would then not be prevented from falling to forces known to care little for what he said, even if they heard it, their being wily and forceful enough to make sure it would come to that.
From Coming to That by Dorothea Tanning. Copyright © 2011 by Dorothea Tanning. Used with permission of Graywolf Press. All rights reserved.