There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
it occurs to me that my grandmother may have had a richer inner life than any of us, that she wasn’t losing much at all putting…“a curtain over that bright cage” that is the world and its invitation.
…I wondered about the other world, the one that children are from before they arrive. It’s a world that is located both in the room and somewhere entirely else, a world whose temporary proximity wrenches us from the catastrophe of living in this world and being this person, this subject. I wondered if it’s what children bring rather than what they must bear that makes us want them.