To be told by the cawing of the crow, the breathing of the distant sea, and the soft kiss of the breeze upon his naked bald pate, "You are now and have heretofore been still more than all of this. Keep existing my friend and lover."
She closes her eyes to the feeling of her fingernails underwater. She doesn’t see the black of eyelids but instead- the deep green of quiet air under the pond’s surface.
"A magical ritual which required as many seconds as salt crystals and grains of brown sugar; as many hours as pieces of garlic. And Denisa and the Gears turned a song as the brisket brined and marinated away..."
"For a Widow-Turned-Bride quite often needs that last moment to say goodbye to her previous chapter and hello to the next one; yea, and to breathe..."
"Maggie saw him hoist aloft his tiny quarry with spry glee, his face seemed to crack in two with more crows feet than a murder into what she thought was the biggest smile since she said yes to him..."
"An interesting detail about her was that she had nine fingers and no college. Yea, but that didn't matter. In the name of that fluttering eye-lash of hers- it didn't matter."
