Crisp and spare, snow on the plains. The relationships are what is expected, but carefully & sharply sketched. A stark, crystalline book that watches its characters honestly, full of sympathy & judgment. Scattered through with those little moments or phrases that catch your breath in your throat for just a second. A book that's all winter.
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"...little messy bird's nest of a face."
"She looked at her hands like a book in a foreign language."
"Forty-foot Indian Jesus comes rolling down the alleyway, careful not to step on the cars, garages, leaving footprints as big as fishing boats behind him. A little tipsy, a little trouble. A suddent attack of tenderness, a feeling welling up in his chest of loss and sorrow and love for the tiny people asleep in their tiny houses, snug in their beds with Jesus watching over them outside, trying not to crush the carport. My people, Jesus thinks, my little people."