At first, she could not talk. Perhaps it was the sudden bumpiness of love she felt for him. Or had she always loved him?
And I stop listening to me, because to put it bluntly, I tire me.
I have hated words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.
An attribute of Rosa Hubermann, she was a good woman for a crisis.
If her soul ever leaks, I want it to land on me.
She didn't dare to look up, but she could feel their frightened eyes hanging onto her as she hauled the words in and breathed them out. A voice played the notes inside her. This, it said, is your accordion.