But Sometimes You Lose. Nothing You Can

Morgan Sighed. "i," She Announced, "am So Pathetic." "you Are Not," I Said. "i Am." She Went Over And Straightened The Cling Wrap, Corner To Corner. "do You Know How Many Times I've Brought In Devilled Eggs? This Is, Like, The Only Time I Haven't Been Sobbing And That's Only 'cause I Cried All Night. And Norman," She Said, Her Voice Rising To A Wail, "sweet Norman, Always Just Acts So Surprised To See The Eggs, And Pleased, And He Never, Once, Has Ever Acted Like He Knew What They Meant."

When I Pictured Myself, It Was Always Like Just An Outline In A Colouring Book, With The Inside Not Yet Completed.

You Could Just Tell When A Person Belonged Somewhere. That Is Something You Can't Fake, No Matter How Hard You Try

But It Was Okay Not To Fit In Everywhere, As Long As You Did Somewhere.

And That Was As Far As He Got Before I Heard It. The Thumping Of Footsteps, Running Up The Lawn Toward Me: It Seemed Like I Could Hear It Through The Grass, Like Leaning Your Ear To A Railroad Track And Feeling The Train Coming, Miles Away. As The Noise Got Closer I Could Hear Ragged Breaths, And Then A Voice. It Was My Mother.