When the statue she’d inhabited in those fours years embraced the thought that dancing was a possibility, she understood, at last, that she had never loved him and she left. As the years passed flowers had grown from her lichen, and the folds of her concrete robes had softened to a swing.
Over this coffee she had thought she would be able to tell him, bu…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Advantages of Age to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.