Northbound Yonge Line at King
Caucasian woman, early 20s, with short dark hair, wearing glasses, black turtleneck, and long black winter coat.
Summer of My Amazing Luck, Miriam Toews (Vintage Canada)
Page 147:
I had never really known my dad, and now I wasn’t giving Dill the chance to know his dad. Maybe I should write down everything I know about every guy I was with and then let Dill choose who . . . but what difference does it make? At the very least, I knew I was his mother.
Her father is much older than her mother. She shares no resemblance to him beyond an affection for almond bark and the Cello Suites. Sunday afternoons are spent in the study. He sits at his desk preparing next week’s lectures. She reclines in the worn leather chair with the rip in the seat, taken from the office of a recently deceased colleague. She crosses the room, breaks off another piece of chocolate, and nibbles at the edge of an almond wondering, as she has her whole life, where this man came from.
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