She Took Me to the Hallway to Explain My “Place”

waited.

Eleanor liked an audience, even if it was just one person cornered between a ficus and a brass lamp.

She tipped her head a little, studying me the way some women study a table setting that’s almost right.

“You are accomplished,” she said. “No one denies that. You’ve built something respectable for yourself.”

Respectable.

The word was wearing white continue reading …