And while it is hard enough to take away something that makes a person happy it's even more difficult when it seems like it's the only thing.

Some things you don't have to tell. Some things, between sisters, are understood.

It's not forever', she'd said, but to my mother, it might as well have been. She had make her choice, and this was it, where she felt safe, in a world she could, for the most part, control.

What did it feel like, I wondered, to love someone that much? So much that you couldn't even control yourself when they came close, as if you might just break free of whatever was holding you and throw yourself at them with enough force to easily overwhelm you both.

There was something so heavy about the burden of history, of the past. I wasn't sure I had it in me to keep looking back.

In midair, dangling lost above the world.

I think I'm too lazy a writer to do something like historical fiction. You have to do so much research. I just write what I know.