“She looked at me. "What? Is there something wrong with my idea?""It's not very heroic," I said dismissively. "I was expecting something with a little more flair.""Well, I left my armor and warhorse at home," she said. "You're just upset because your big University brain couldn't think of a way, and my plan is brilliant.”

“I almost said, you're not broken, you're just going through something. But i couldn't. She knew. There was something terribly wrong with her, all the way inside. She was like a big diamond with a dead spot in the middle. I was supposed to breathe life into that dead spot, but it hadn't worked...”

“There was something about my face,she said, that she couldn't stand. Something about my eyes, the way I looked at her, the fact I even existed. She'd always tell me to stop looking at her. She'd always scream it. Like I might attack her. Stop looking at me, she'd scream. You just stop looking at me, she'd scream.She put my hand in the fire once.Just to see if it would burn, she said. Just to check if it was a regular hand, she said.I was 6 years old then.I remember because it was my birthday.”

“I could not resist the temptation to ask: Tell me something, Damiana: what do you recall? I wasn't recalling anything, she said, but your question makes me remember. I felt a weight in my chest. I've never fallen in love, I told her. She replied without hesitation: I have. And she concluded, not interrupting her work: I cried over you for twenty-two years. My heart skipped a beat. Looking for a dignified way out, I said: We would have made a good team. Well, it's wrong of you to say so now, she said, because you're no good to me anymore even as a consolation. As she was leaving the house, she said in the most natural way: You won't believe me but thanks be to God, I'm still a virgin.”

“Won't you come with me she said, there's plenty of room in my iron bed. You're looking cold and tired and a little hmna. I know I'm not part of the life you had planned, but I think once your body feels my hand your mind will change and your heart will lose its pain.”

“She smiled. "I need your opinion," she said. "What do you think about something sleeveless for this weekend? With a cinched waist and a medium train?" I brought my hand to my chin and considered this. "Sounds okay," I said. "But I think I'd look better in a tuxedo.”