Just Once, She'd Like To Be The

Evie Hadn’t Always Felt That Way. For A Year After James Had Died, She’d Cupped His Half-dollar Pendant Between Her Pressed Palms And Prayed Fervently For A Miracle, For A Telegram That Would Say Good News! It Was A Terrible Mistake, And Private James Xavier O’neill Has Been Found, Safe, In A Farmhouse In France. But No Such Telegram Ever Arrived, And Whatever Possible Faith Might Have Bloomed In Evie Withered And Died. Now She Saw It As Just Another Advertisement For A Life That Belonged To A Previous Generation And Held No Meaning For Hers.

I’m From The Health Department. You’ve Heard Of Typhoid Mary? This Fella’s Got Enough Typhoid To Start His Own Colony.

She Bestowed The Blessing Of A Wild Girl's Lips.

Wow, You're Awesome And The Universe Loves A Winner, So The Universe Must Really Love You!

All Morning, Spence Has Been A Well-oiled Machine Of Activity. Everyone Doing Her Bit, Quietly And Efficiently. It's Strange How Deliberate People Are After A Death. All The Indecision Suddenly Vanishes Into Clear, Defined Moments--changing The Linens, Choosing A Dress Or A Hymn, The Washing Up, The Muttering Of Prayers. All The Small, Simple, Conscious Acts Of Living A Sudden Defense Against The Dying We Do Every Day.