I seem to be concerned with contradictions – unfathomable ones at that how people survive them – do they  –

I can write about my mother’s tablecloth  – I think that it was the regularity of supper time after a  tornado of a day – and we sat in the eye of the storm every night eating supper, like a respite from whatever happened next.

here’s a quote from The Stone Dairies by Carol Shields,

” by half-past five the two of them will sit down a the table – this very table, only spread with a clean cloth , every second day a clean cloth – and eat their supper.” pg 3

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