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His dad had told him many times that the definition of a real man is one who cries without shame, reads poetry with his heart, feels opera in his soul, and does what’s necessary to defend a woman.
It didn’t fit that anyone who liked birds would be mean.
we got stuck, but what’d we girls do? We made it fun, we laughed. That’s what sisters and girlfriends are all about. Sticking together even in the mud, ’specially in mud.”
Not waiting for the sounds of someone was a release. And a strength.
Why should the injured, the still bleeding, bear the onus of forgiveness?
No wonder her mind buried the scene; no wonder Ma had left.
