Commentary of "The Sorrowful Woman"
"Look, Mommy is sleeping," said the boy. "She's tired from doing all our things again." He dawdled in a stream of the last sun for that day and watched his father roll tenderly back her eyelids, lay his ear softly to her breast, test the delicate bones of her wrist. The father put down his face into her fresh-washed hair. "Can we eat the turkey for supper?" the boy asked. *** Once upon a time, what if I had chosen not to die? To bare witness to the lingering cooked-turkey aro