“Back then flying was still sort of a big deal. You dressed up a little. I remember that I wore my one dressy outfit, a ghastly ensemble of dusty rose polyester pants and a floral shirt with similar mauve overtones. I thought I looked really good in it.”
“It was the day of the fall/winter session’s final exam. In the wee hours a blizzard had kicked into high gear, crippling the entire city by rush hour. The snow was already approaching knee height. City services struggled to plow the streets. Subway service was spotty. Still, I was determined to take that final.”
“I sat inside on the couch, in a house without power. All I could do was sit, listen and wait. Waiting for our branches to fall, which many of them did over the course of the day, became almost meditative, and the inevitability of each new piece of damage almost gratifying.”
“The shift in conversation happened gradually but noticeably. One week Ron was pointing out various sites of the Underground Railroad, as well as homes of abolitionists, around Staten Island. The next he was starting to share more personal information about himself. It began with a vague statement concerning marital discontent.”
“On the box was a whispy-haired woman – smiling demurely, her eyes lowered – wearing some kind of pastel-colored chiffon top. She certainly didn’t look like she had a raging infection in her most personal of areas.”
“I felt as if those cards were telling me what to feel. My present state of mind didn’t include concepts like ‘memories’ or ‘legacy.’ If the cards had mentioned ‘bewilderment’ or ‘numbness’ or ‘exhaustion’ I’d have felt the writers had some idea of what this was all about.”