“In the convent, y'all,I tend the gardens,watch things grow,pray for the immortal soulof rock 'n' roll. They call meSister Presley here,The Reverend Motherdigs the way I move my hipsjust like my brother. Gregorian chantdrifts out across the herbsPascha nostrum immolatus est...I wear a simple habit,darkish hues, a wimple with a novice-sewnlace band, a rosary,a chain of keys,a pair of good and sturdyblue suede shoes. I think of itas Graceland here,a land of grace.It puts my trademark slow lopsided smileback on my face. Lawdy.I'm alive and well.Long time since I walkeddown Lonely Streettowards Heartbreak Hotel.- Elvis's Twin Sister”

“This is Graceland. Home of the most famous musician in the world.”“Michael Jackson lived here?”“No, dummy,” Carter said. “Elvis Presley.”

“I will put on my shoes and shirtand get out of here - it'll be better forall of us.”

“Rocking ChairSad is. Scared is. That is all. The rocking chair I live in rocks like a paper boat. Sometimes I am all words, and no boot. No muster. No yes. All lag and tired pray, all miss my hometown. Miss the woods and the quiet porch and the talking slow. I caught the snow on my tongue. Snow angel, I. My heart a blue lamp. My mother calling me home. We cannot be called home enough times in our lives. Dear lonely, what is your name? I will open my front door and ring it through the streets.”

“He walked over to the piano and lifted the cover revealing black and white keys that my fingers knew all too well. “Play for me?”I looked at the piano hesitantly and I felt the passion start to grow back inside of me. My fingers itched to play and suddenly my body was moving towards the piano and I sat down, my posture back to where it should be, my fingers hovering over the keys ready to play a song that I hadn’t heard in years.I closed my eyes and slowly breathed in and out. And then my fingers flew across the keys, the music filling the room. The music moved me both emotionally and physically as I rocked my body to the music, putting all of me into the song. The music took me to a different place than where I was here and now. This is the melody I always seem to come back to, always finding myself lost in the notes. The song is a part of me as it tells a story. A story about loss and recovery.”

“When I opened my case in the hotel, he gestured excitedly at my snakeskin sandals, turquoise suede wedges and silver-speckled jellies. “But you’ve loads of shoes,” he bellowed joyfully. I shook my head sadly. Men just don’t get it, do they? They’re definitely missing the shoe chromosome.”