They had fun together these days, they really did. It was as if marriage had been a long, complicated meal, and now there was this lovely dessert.

the tall white windmills that came to her mind. How their skinny long arms all turned, but never together, except for just once in a while two of them would be turning the same way, their arms poised at the same place in the sky.

And it was too late. No one wants to believe something is too late, but it is always becoming too late, and then it is.

You couldn't make yourself stop feeling a certain way, no matter what the other person did. You had to just wait. Eventually the feeling went away because others came along. Or sometimes it didn't go away but got squeezed into something tiny, and hung like a piece of tinsel in the back of your mind.