New American Stories (Vintage Contemporaries)

And Ma and I—what if months later we sit here and watch a dusty vehicle climb the hill, bouncing a sack of meat in the back seat that was once you? What if…” But she couldn’t go on giving name to her terrors. Instead, she said, “If you go, know that we as we are now will be gone forever.” He shuddered. “We were gone when she was gone. We were shatt

Nettie and he—a sort of perseverance, a persistent understanding. Where would Nettie have found strength for the unremitting concessions of daily life? She was precipitated from delight to lamentation without logical sequence, as though life were too short; she must cram everything in and perhaps sort it out later.