My daughter says that if we bury him we will grow a new pet.

In her address book, names were followed by their date of death.

She never left North Carolina

He arrived from New York for a visit. I wore my favorite white dress and he took me for a walk on the nearby coal piles.

She told me that some people fade faster than others

We were part of a family secret

One day made the difference

My response to everything became: I do what I want.

I began to see my past as a series of cliches.

He once lived; now we are unsure of his name.

That we were children together is not an excuse

We had stopped speaking.

That was the year she saw us for our faults