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I didn’t like my view of the sky being blocked.
There were lots of comments, and since Mom was a cut above most people in the education and brains and looks departments, most of the comments were mean.
Paulina tried to seem pleased and grateful, but she looked more like she’d sucked on a salted lemon. Paulina liked to carry her own bodies, I figured.
The good thing about that morning was that no one tried to kill us.
It was my own grief. I could feel it fading away into something I simply accepted, because that’s the way I am. I knew I’d feel better. It was living until then that was hard.
Wishing never gets you anywhere.
“This beef looks good,” she said. “Goat,” I murmured. “Goat,” she said, giving me a look that would have shrunk my balls if I’d had any.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” I said, wondering if she’d be more agreeable if I drew out my knife.
