“Her wrinkles were like slander. Her voice was akin to a beating with a stick.”

“Her teeth were like a soccer crowd, crammed in.”

“When we move apart, she looks at me again, till a small tear lifts itself up in her eye. It trips out to find a wrinkle and follows it down.”

“The notes were born on her breath, and they died at her lips.”

“She remembered her books in the moments of worst sorrow, especially the ones that were made for her and the one that saved her life.”

“Somewhere in all the snow, she could see her broken heart, in two pieces. Each half was glowing, and beating under all that white.”

“The words were on their way, and when they arrived, she would hold them in her hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like the rain.”