You're the perfect girl', he said, rubbing his chin. 'You expect nothing.
It is so often surprising, who rescues you at your lowest moments.
It seemed to happen in springs, the revealing of things.
As a writer you ask yourself to dream while awake.
When the light at Vernon turned green, we stepped into the street and George grabbed my hand and the ghosts of our younger selves crossed with us.
Mom loved my brother more. Not that she didn't love me - I felt the wash of her love every day, pouring over me, but it was a different kind, siphoned from a different, and tamer, body of water. I was her darling daughter; Joseph was her it.