If My Holding Out Those Berries Was

I Have Not Wept Since The Death Of My Parents," Said Luxa Quietly. "but I Am Thought To Be Unnatural In This Respect.

There's No Point In Comforting Words, In Telling Her She'll Be All Right. She's No Fool. Her Hand Reaches Out And I Clutch It Like A Lifeline. As If It's Me Who's Dying Instead Of Rue.

I Have Two Older Sisters And One Older Brother And Hold Them Largely Responsible For The Trouble I Got Into Growing Up. I Believe As The Youngest Child, That Is My Right.

At Once, It’s Clear I Cannot Gush. We Try Me Playing Cocky, But I Just Don’t Have The Arrogance. Apparently, I’m Too “vulnerable” For Ferocity. I’m Not Witty. Funny. Sexy. Or Mysterious By The End Of The Session, I Am No One At All.

I Carefully Lay Out The Provisions. One Thin Black Sleeping Bag That Reflects Body Heat. A Pack Of Crackers. A Pack Of Dried Beef Strips. A Bottle Of Iodine. A Box Of Wooden Matches. A Small Coil Of Wire. A Pair Of Sunglasses. And A Half-gallon Plastic Bottle With A Cap For Carrying Water That's Bone Dry. No Water. How Hard Would It Have Been For Them To Fill Up The Bottle?