“She wished it were evening now, wished for the great relief of the calendar inking itself out, of day done and night coming, of ice cubes knocking about in a glass beneath the whisky spilling in, that fine brown affirmation… — Michelle Latiolais Copy Share Image
“She wished it were evening now, wished for the great relief of the calendar inking itself out, of day done and night coming, of… — Michelle Latiolais Copy Share Image
“But then again, that's what the Book of Job was about to her, a cautionary tale about wanting there to be a God, wanting there to be someone who could enact what a God could enact, or who could sanction what the Devil would do. You want this, people? You want these kinds of powers? No, you don't, and here's… — Michelle Latiolais Copy Share
“For all her culture's attention to the physical, it seemingly has little to salve the creatural anguish of losing someone else's body, their touch, their heat, their oceanic heart...she doesn't want another body, she wants the body she loved, the forceps scar across his cheek that she traced with her hand, his penis, its elegant sweep to the side, the… — Michelle Latiolais Copy Share
“She has been surprised by grief, its constancy, its immediacy, its unrelenting physical pain.” — Michelle Latiolais Copy Share Image
“...she imagines her body curled in the narrow monk's bed, knees to chin, her own irrefutable geography, but she sees the blood of her… — Michelle Latiolais Copy Share Image
“Wandering is better than place sometimes, than home, than destination. Sometimes she can eke out the idea that wandering is possibility, chance, serendipity--he might… — Michelle Latiolais Copy Share Image
