They love talking about actions having consequences, until it comes to something they've done. Then, good intentions are all that matter.
She writes a tribute to her friends, the three closest, who cluster around her when shockwaves spread through her life.
The greatest gift her parents gave her, she writes, is a love of cheese. Cheese platters and wine are what hold her family together at home and abroad.
We play charades. I act out a kangaroo. "Karate bunny!" she shouts. I try again.
The boy runs straight at the headlights. He cries when his parents snatch him away.
The basketball flies around like Flubber in the cluttered room.
Dark windows and deserted streets tell me stories I don't know how to interpret. Some neighborhoods wither like unwatered vines, and it isn't always clear why.