Noa and Mother folded into each other and wept like charcoal silhouettes against a bleak world, before Noa left for the place where the sea meets the sky.
When an audience is presented with narratives in which women acknowledge their individuality over their motherhood, or even choose not to have children, it becomes difficult to separate a protagonist’s character flaws from their attempt at achieving a greater happiness.
Phone said 2:45pm. This means school is out, scream and shout. In case future daughter/granddaughter is reading this, a few things to note: all students wear tiny gray uniform skirt, boxers poke underneath.
She puts on long, droopy earrings and stares back at me in the mirror. Try these, she says, and hands me a pair of danglies. You have perfect ears, she says. Look, she says. Perfect. Look at your earlobe.
"My mom doesn’t understand heartbreak because she’s never had her heart broken. She’s always been the one to break hearts, the one to close the door on people, the one to say goodbye."
"Asking my mother about her experience in the ’80s is a bit like asking my dog about his former life as a stock broker—so far removed from my reality that I find it difficult to comprehend."
