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Maybe she should be grateful she didn’t have much to carry, but she felt a jolt of anger at how little weight she had in this world, how little she had to keep her from being caught up in the wind and scattered like dust swept off the stoop.
Wishes granted were rarely the gifts they seemed.
He had always feared death more than he resented this unrelenting life.
He could take pleasure in nothing any longer because he knew it would all come to an end.”
She had never wanted children of her own; the thought had frightened her. She’d had a hard enough time carving out a life without trying to do the same for a helpless creature.
