A few nights later, however, Hans Hubermann came home with a box of eggs. Sorry, Mama. He placed them on the table. They were all out of shoes.
It was with great sadness that she realised that her brother would be six forever, but when she held that thought, she also made an effort to smile.
It's much easier . . . to be on the verge of something than to actually be it. This would still take time.
She wanted none of those days to end, and it was always with disappointment that she watched the darkness stride forward.
As always, she was carrying the washing. Rudy was carrying two buckets of cold water, or as he put it, two buckets of future ice.
If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter.
A DEFINITION NOT FOUNDIN THE DICTIONARYNot leaving: an act of trust and love,often deciphered by children
He does something to me, that boy. Every time. It’s his only detriment. He steps on my heart. He makes me cry.
