“I rested my head on the wall behind me and closed my eyes, wishing my life had a button: Ignore All.”

“I closed my eyes and rested my head against his chest, wishing sincerely that Rhiannon would get hit by a bus.”

“I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes, which keeps the business part of my brain temporarily disabled.”

“it gives me no rest, my wish to know the fate of all these scenes that entered my eyes and have remained in my thoughts. What happens to them when I am no longer there?”

“I grabbed Aunt Prue's tiny hand, her fingers as small as bare twigs in winter. I closed my eyes and took her other hand, twisting my strong fingers together with her frail ones. I rested my forehead against our hands and closed my eyes. I imagined lifting my head up and seeing her smiling, the tape and tubes gone. I wondered if wishing was the same thing as praying. If hoping for something badly enough could make it happen.”

“I closed my eyes, bowed my head and thought, AH, HELL . . .”