The Most Compelling Narrative, Expressed In Sentences

There Were Times Ruma Felt Closer To Her Mother In Death Than She Had In Life, An Intimacy Born Simply Of Thinking Of Her So Often, Of Missing Her. But She Knew That This Was An Illusion, A Mirage, And That The Distance Between Them Was Now Infinite, Unyielding.

The First Sentence Of A Book Is A Handshake, Perhaps An Embrace.

The Knowledge Of Death Seemed Present In Both Sisters-it Was Something About The Way They Carried Themselves, Something That Had Broken Too Son And Had Not Mended, Marking Them In Spite Of Their Lightheartedness.

She Watched His Lips Forming The Words, At The Same Time She Heard Them Under Her Skin, Under Her Winter Coat, So Near And Full Of Warmth That She Felt Herself Go Hot.

Being A Writer Means Taking The Leap From Listening To Saying 'listen To Me'.