This Is the Life: Beginning with a Line from The SeagullCate Peebles
We’re parting and perhaps we’ll never meet again. Please accept this small token to remember me by. Being beautiful just made things worse for poor Nina. You only think you want to be the ingénue with your white bone-licked china everything. She asked for it. Asked for all of it without getting what it would feel like to get it, and then what comes after, because there’s always after— even once the curtain is sewn into new curtains for a different window, they are still curtains, though they frame a blizzard now, not a stage. Every time she enters, I think: This time she will do things differently. She will love the loving man, she will stay by the fire. But no. She exits the same way again. It’s so easy to want badly; so hard to know where to hang the sandpiper once it’s been shot, stuffed, and handed over.
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