...I tried to imagine the sort of dress to which a feather might belong. Tried to imagine a woman with feathers for a neck, or for a hem, who said red belonged to her...
...I put recipe cards on which were written the secrets to favorite pasta sauces, lists of exotic spices, best-sounding desserts from foreign places, a list of favorite herbs. I put whatever looked like something I could hold onto later, whatever I thought might tell a story about a man who had loved and lost and dreamed adventure but never traveled far...
...the cluster of balloons- the bobbing silver, white, and pink with sunbeams trapped inside.
They could have been clouds, scraping close to earth. They could have been poppies after they'd bloomed or tears of the face of the moon...
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