Liz looks at the tissue box, which is decorated with drawings of snowmen engaged in various holiday activities. One of the snowmen is happily placing a smiling rack of gingerbread men in an oven. Baking gingerbread men, or any cooking for that matter, is probably close to suicide for a snowman, Liz thinks. Why would a snowman voluntarily engage in an activity that would in all likelihood melt him? Can snowmen even eat? Liz glares at the box.
Gabrielle ZevinLife used to move much more quickly when I was a girl. We needed to abbreviate just to keep up.
Gabrielle ZevinIt is a lie that people who love each other must know everything about each other. Love must occasionally allow for a gap.
Gabrielle Zevin