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When the doctors’ voices started turning to noise, I didn’t fight it.

This is a novel that contains more than its actuarial share of falls.

The window washer smiles a little and licks his lips. Nadine smiles back.

Her mother singing out the window at trucks slamming the other way.

You’re going to have a difficult life if you can’t figure out where to stand.

At the core, a daughter is a self-reckoning emptiness.

Not the Olympics, the guard said. Just chuck yourself down the tube.

There were classes where you became a family. It was a kind of love affair.

As a child I wanted to behold the elusive squid, the patience of eels.

She was painting a bedroom, trying to be a good mother, wife, Catholic.

The joy and anguish of youth, captured in two six-word stories.

“O youth! The strength of it, the faith of it, the imagination of it!”

and still it is summer and each day the sun arouses the kudzu