just trying to keep score.

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“A vacuumed space would appear at first, a howling little hole, but if I strained and brought all my resources to bear on the matter, I could piece together a fractured puzzle, a child’s drawing she had made of herself, a photo collage scissored apart and glued back with the primatics of a ransom note. It was always shards. If I managed to conjure what mattered to me, what she genuinely looked like, I could only picture Esther with that awful blurred face of the television children, the sharp green speckling of her eyes wiped in streaks, the flushed color of her lips leaking upward from her mouth through her cheeks and forehead, a swirl of colors clouding her face. If I was lucky enough to picture her face, it smudged in my mind, as if, even in the past, when I knew her, she wore a stocking over her head and I never once saw my daughter’s face for what it really was.”

Ben Marcus, The Flame Alphabet | Knopf 01.17.12

January 21, 2012, 11:00am  Comments

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