Amory Blaine’s Reviews > Like Water > Status Update

[2] I mean, when I stop and look at Dad, or at the test application and consent forms bookmarked on my phone and laptop, I know that isn’t literally true . . . but if I don’t stop and look, I can keep believing.
So I don’t stop.
And I don’t look.

[2] Bodies so perfect they were beneath their notice; like the ticking of a clock you never pay attention to until the day it stops, and then it’s not the sound you hear, but the silence.

[1] I look at Dad in his slouchy old T-shirt and sweatpants, folded into his waiting room chair, and try to imagine him and Chris with young bodies that could take them anywhere they wanted to go, that were never full and rarely tired. Bodies that chased down ice cream trucks for mango con chile paletas, and leapt into pools, and climbed tough, dusty hills out in the desert.