She Had Died At Age Twelve, And

Though Lexington Is Not A Small Town, It Sometimes Feels Like One, With Circles Of Acquaintance Overlapping Once, Then Again; The Person You Meet By Chance At The Library Or The Pool May Turn Out To Be The Best Friend Of Your Down-the-street Neighbor. Maybe Thats Why People Are So Friendly Here, So Willing To Be Unhurried.

...bleak Territory Of The Heart.

Norah Looked At Her Son’s Tiny Face, Surprised, As Always, By His Name. He Had Not Grown Into It Yet, He Still Wore It Like A Wrist Band, Something That Might Easily Slip Off And Disappear. She Had Read About People – Where? She Could Not Remember This Either – Who Refused To Name Their Children For Several Weeks, Feeling Them To Be Not Yet Of The Earth, Suspended Still Between Two Worlds.

Norah Watched Him, Serious And Utterly Absorbed In His Task, Overcome By The Simple Fact Of His Existence.

It Seemed There Was No End At All To The Lies A Person Could Tell, Once She Got Started.