Jeffrey Eugenides

It was from Ms. Angelica Turnette, a hospital clerical worker, that we later received the documents that we hold among our most prized possessions (her non union pay hardly made ends meet). T

a photograph was taken of her rosy cervix, which looks like a camera shutter set on an extremely low exposure. (It stares at us now like an inflamed eye, fixing us with its silent accusation.)

we later received the documents that we hold among our most prized possessions (her non union pay hardly made ends meet).

"Rest": Earth, lie heavily upon her eyes; Seal her sweet eyes weary of watching, Earth; Lie close around her; leave no roomfor mirth With its harsh laughter, norfor sound of sighs. She hath no questions, she hath no replies.

"Rest": Earth, lie heavily upon her eyes; Seal her sweet eyes weary of watching, Earth; Lie close around her; leave no roomfor mirth With its harsh laughter, norfor sound of sighs. She hath no questions, she hath no replies.

It occurred to us that she and the girls read secret signs of misery in cloud formations, that despite the discrepancy in their ages something timeless communicated itself between them, as though she were advising the girls in her mumbling Greek, "Don't waste your time on life."

On the morning the last Lisbon daughter took her turn at suicide

She looked like a tiny Cleopatra on an imperial litter.

What are you doing here, honey? You’re not even old enough to know how bad life gets.”

And it was then Cecilia gave orally what was to be her only form of suicide note, and a useless one at that, because she was going to live: “Obviously, Doctor,” she said, “you’ve never been a thirteen-year-old girl.”

lost in the piety of a fifteen-year-old.