Thursday, May 17, 2007

Harbourfront, sitting on a bench beside the water

Caucasian woman, late 60s, wearing a pink tank top and white shorts, looking at a spot on the pavement just past her crossed ankles.

Missing Mom, Joyce Carol Oates (Harper Perennial)

About page 35:

Suddenly we were speaking in low excited voices. My heart was beating with painful clarity, unless it was my mother's heart beating. I could not breathe, she was sucking the oxygen out of the room. I wanted to push her from me, I was frightened of her power.

She invites her granddaughter to the table for tea, placing shortbread cookies on a chipped china plate and swinging her arm over the back of her chair. The drapes flutter in the window behind her as a cargo train steams by. Her gaze settles on her granddaughter's face, tracing the line of her cheekbones, lost in a far away grin. She's counting cars.

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