Rebecca Wells

She saw night lights in the rooms of the babies who dreamed soft seersucker dreams, drugged happy with the heat, their pink baby bodies curled against worn out cotton, not fearing Hitler yet, their strong, tiny hearts beating in unison with the trees and the creeks and the bayou

Because I miss them. Because I need them. Because I love them.

Sometimes I wonder if any of us are cut out for the lives we lead.

How many years went by unnoticed, unembraced?

She used to say she could taste sleep and that it was as delicious as a BLT on fresh French bread.

What does my smile look like now? Vivi wondered. Can you reclaim that free-girl smile, or is it like virginity- once you loose it, that's it?

...Don't ever worry bout bein holy, babychild. Just keep your eyes wide open except when you sleep. Then let the Lord's mighty vision see you through the night.

There is the truth of history, and there is the truth of what a person remembers.