Possibly the only good to come out of these nightmares was that it brought Hans Hubermann, her new papa, into the room, to soothe her, to love her. He came every night and sat with her. The first couple of times, he simply stayed - a stranger to kill the aloneness. A few nights after that, he whispered, "Shhh, I'm here, it's all right." After three weeks he held her. Trust was accumulated quickly, due primarily to the brute strength of the man's gentleness, his thereness. The girl knew from the outset that Hans Hubermann would always appear midscream, and he would not leave. (36)

Can a wolfe be beautiful?

If they killed him tonight, at least he would die alive.

The song was born on her breathe and died at her lips.

I always marvel at the humans' ability to keep going. They always manage to stagger on even with tears streaming down their faces.

She looks at the swings, and I can see she’s imagining what they’d look like if the kids weren’t there. The guilt of this holds her down momentarily. It appears to be there constantly. Never far away, despite her love for them. I realize that nothing belongs to her anymore and she belongs to everything.

A small but noteworthy note. I've seen so many young men over the years who think they're running at other young men. They are not. They are running at me.