The baby octopus in my shirt drawer missed the ocean, but she doesn’t know how to tell me that, so I don’t know, and go on petting her head gently morning after morning as I open the drawer and choose that day’s shirt.
Zermatt lies at the end of a narrow valley, near the base of the Matterhorn, and life in the village unfolds in the mountain’s majestic presence. Throughout a day, if it is not completely obscured by clouds . . .
He was a good brother, not that he ever gave her any advice or protected her in a fight or introduced her to one of his friends or even talked to her in front of his friends or took her to a ball game . . .