You could tell that it didn’t even occur to them that we might mind being left waiting. As if time means nothing to people who have nothing but time. I think it’s the opposite. Our time is wasted so profligately that we cherish it for what it might be, not for its emptiness.

Maybe she hears in colors, maybe she sees with music.

Carlos knew, as most of them did, that Jorge was attached to Mr. Potato Head. The why of it meant nothing. Can anyone say why they love their comfort item, truthfully?

It’s tough when your heart is trying to block the past, the present, and the future. At least one of those ought to be tolerable.

I had always thought of us three as a unit. Now I am seeing that Mom and Dad were a unit before I ever came along. She is missing an entire half of herself. I can’t fill that space, but I’m not going anywhere.