The Odd Book of Baby

As a thin ribbon of smoke rose from the edge something stirred in me and I slapped the book against the railing until small specks of fire fell to the floor and died down. It was not just a book of baby names. It was an unusual memoir my father was leaving behind memories condensed into names memories of many kisses lovemaking panting and feeling spent.Can a life be like a jigsaw puzzle pieces waiting to be conjoined? Like a game of hide-and-seek? Like playing statues? Can memories have colour? ...See More