It’s made up of things as small as the diameter of hairs and big as life and death. Her pat answer to all inquiries was, “I let my sister Shari make me over,” while she kept from staring at her own reflection in the shiny shoes past her bare knees. Even then she had understood vaguely that she had touched upon some philosophy of life: that one was never lonely when alone, only in the midst of crowds. There were perches inside where she could crouch and labyrinths underneath where she could hide. I won’t try. She's the boss. But escape to where? She thought of the ships that sailed from the peninsulas to hot deserts where spices were traded. Of course a little daughter is a delightful thing enough.
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