A birth and a death
1. Mary looked at the rumpled mass curled in her arms. He was warm so she knew he was alive but he was so still. Her blackberry blinked, a steady pulse on the nightstand.
2. Her daughter laid on the bed, eyes closed and chest still, and Suzette sat like stone, relief washing over her like a flu’s fever breaking in the early morning hours.
Falling in love and filing for a divorce
1. I heard Kate in the kitchen, stirring tea with a metal spoon. I knew she was pressing the spoon’s handle into a tiny callous on her bottom lip.
2. I climbed the steps to the courthouse, clutching the divorce papers in the same way I hold my boarding pass and passport in the airport, terrified that I’ll lose my identity in a foreign country.
Winter and summer
1. Snow began to fall in the early morning, and it was still piling up when the sun slipped down for the night. I shoveled the driveway while snow swirled in the cones of diffused yellow light that hung from the streetlights.
2. The grass was still wet and cool on my barefeet when I carried the basket of wet clothes up the hills to the clothes lines, and healthy green leaves rustled awake.