But things change, people change, Gaby. Otherwise what would be the point of living?
Death wasn't a movie where the pretty star faded away with a touch of pale makeup and every hair in place.
I'm like my mother, she thought, I search my joy for signs of sorrow ahead.
The end came as dusk fell on a gloomy winter day of cold rain.
Was it always to be like this? she wondered. A moment of joy followed by a new sorrow?
She realized that the photograph had caused his reaction. It came to her almost as a revelation. Think of it: a photographer presses a button. A few hours later and half a world away, some dots of ink on a news print showed what he had seen-and had t...
Well, memory can play tricks. Most people, I think, tend to remember the good rather than the bad when someone close to them dies.
..it just seemed as if she were marking time while life rocketed past.
The wind crooned softly as it dusted the snow against the windows, wrapping them in a thick and fluffy cotton blanket.
