Fathers die.You keep on loving them in any way you can.You can't hide him away in your heart.

All I ever wanted was a world without maps.

Moments before sleep are when she feels most alive, leaping across fragments of the day, bringing each moment into the bed with her like a child with schoolbooks and pencils. The day seems to have no order until these times, which are like a ledger for her, her body full of stories and situations.

I see the poem or the novel ending with an open door.

He knows that the only way he can accept losing her is if he can continue to hold her or be held by her. If they can somehow nurse each other out of this. Not with a wall.

A novel is a mirror walking down a road

The first sentence of every novel should be: Trust me, this will take time but there is order here, very faint, very human.