i gave her my favorite book at the time, the songlines, to read, she gave it back ravaged. she said i am hard on books. i threw it away. i didn't read that book again either.

she read me by my medicine cabinet, but wouldn't tell me what she read. i had a tiny dashboard doll in a bottle facing out the window. she hated that, which i understand, but it wasn't an act, it was a feeling.