“Woodstock incubates the mosquitoes in the garage, which is uninsulated and hot in the summer. It’s recycling day, and he pours allotments of pond water into empty gallon jugs.”
“I thought about how I used to sleep on Gladewood Street with the passing trains at night. It reminded me of the boy who lived even closer to the tracks than I did, whose name I couldn’t remember.”
“He wondered if his body felt cold when she touched him. If she could sense the disconnect of his skin. If she could tell that even with her hands on his chest and her legs between his, they weren’t really touching.”