‘the fact that who needs heart shapes getting in the way all the time’

—Ducks, Newburyport by Lucy Ellmann

She is lying in bed in the afternoon, reading a big thick book with lots of pages. The book prompts her to have a thought. Maybe if I have a child, I’ll make sure to take care of the both of us? When a thought is a question, is it still a thought? The book is red and blue and so hefty she used it to press down the collar on one of her shirts a week ago, because she doesn’t own an iron. The book feels nice to hold, like an animal in a box, and it flattened that fabric out in no time.