Every day a question mark.
I stared at her black hair. It was shiny like the promises in magazines.
Out loud I said I had two children. Silently I said three. I always felt like apologizing to her for that.
Who would have thought something that happened that long ago could have such power?
Stones and bones; snow and frost; seeds and beans and polliwogs. Paths and twigs, assorted kisses, We all know who Daddy misses! His two little frogs of girls, that’s who. They know where they are, do you, do you?
Murderers are not monsters, they're men. And that's the most frightening thing about them.