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305 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2008
I stood amongst the women waiting to be served. Well dressed or otherwise, they all had one thing in common -- a kind of look in their eyes and compressed-looking mouths, as if they had closed them tightly at times to keep back sharp words of irritation. I was covertly watching their faces through a little strip of mirror, rather badly lit, and one mouth looked particularly set. I looked again at the bit of chin that showed above a row of tinned pears, feeling pity as I thought, "You do look repressed and irritable" ... I recognised it for my own mouth, and wondered, "Do I often look like that?"
I thought of the greetings of other years, even war years, at Hospital Supply. We set our faces against drabness and clinging to old customs of happier days was one little gesture, even in the darkest days. I sighed as I thought the so-called peace was robbing us of things that war never did. I often look back on the war years personally and think of the exhilaration that filled my veins like potent wine, carrying me over rough places ... giving me courage to do whatever came along.
Of all gifts I crave, that of "expression" would be my dearest wish. ... If I could put it all in written language and sequence, I could write books, I'm sure. Maybe I'll get my wish in some future reincarnation!"