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 ZevinTragedy is when someone ends up dead. Everything else is just a bump in the road. For the record, that was something Daddy used to say.
Gabrielle ZevinThe casualities seemed to go on and on. Just when I thought I was done losing her, I would find yet another way to love her all over again.
Gabrielle Zevin