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a potpourri of sense and feminine lunacy

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her coping mechanism

It was a bit like writing the old year in the date column in the first few days of the new year. Or still calling him your fiance months after you married him. Or brushing the non-existent hair off your shoulder the day after you chopped it. Or putting pimple cream on a pimple that has faded into the recesses of the skin of your nose. Or blowing into your mug of coffee to cool it long after it has turned lukewarm.

She still referred to him in the present tense. And included him when she made dinner for four.


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