I was always mortified. Didn't they know they were tying thier mothers to the ground? Weren't chains ashamed of their prisoners?
Janet Fitch
She laughed so easily when she was happy. But also when she was sad.
sadness
Although she was giddy with exhaustion, sleep was a lover who refused to be touched..
sleep lover
A womans mistakes are different from a girls
different woman girl mistake
For lunch, we drove into the hills and parked in the dappled shade of a big sycamore, its powdery white bark like a woman's body against the uncanny blue sky.
sky woman imagery white tree
Her hatred glittered irresistibly. I could see it, the jewel, it was sapphire, it was the cold lakes of Norway.
hatred blue
mothers know ashamed prisoners
I thought of my mother as Queen Christina, cool and sad, eyes trained on some distant horizon. That was where she belonged, in furs and palaces of rare treasures, fireplaces large enough to roast a reindeer, ships of Swedish maple.
luxury mother daughter
Her fingers moved among barnacles and mussels, blue-black, sharp-edged. Neon red starfish were limp Dalis on the rocks, surrounded by bouquets of stinging anemones and purple bursts of spiny sea urchins.
color sea
Who are you? The band sang. I tried to remember but I really couldn't say.
song
Whenever she turned her steep focus to me, I felt the warmth that flowers must feel when they bloom through the snow, under the first concentrated rays of the sun.
attention sun snow
I closed my eyes to watch tiny dancers like jeweled birds cross the dark screen of my eyelids.
color bird
He just wanted to stand close to her, touch her hair that was white as glacier milk..
color milk white wanting
(letters) They were like a kelp forest, they cast a weird green light, you could get lost there, become tangled and drown.. Still eyeing the letters like Portuguese man-of-wars floating on the innocent sea.
color
Now I wish she'd never broken any of her rules. I understood why she held to them so hard. Once you broke the first one, they all broke, one by one, like firecrackers exploding in your face in a parking lot on the Fourth of July.
rules
The night crackled.. Everything had turned to static electricity in the heat. I combed my hair to watch the sparks fly from the ends.
imagery hair electricity
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