"I look out at the caked dirt and see the heat rising in invisible waves in front of me and remember an old folktale of a coyote and a spider."
"The memories of my distant teen-hood still haunt me: when I could find a new lover every week and let him go just as fast."
"The rage inside of him was coddled and his feelings began to fade away."
"Her hair is a magnificent bronze, as the light catches it. A halo around her head, she is glowing. I freeze; I stop breathing. The golden brown of her irises penetrate me."
"Sometimes it falls slowly and softly, like a feather in our sleep."