He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. No, don’t let me call myself that. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. "Don't you know me, mother?" "Ah!" shrieked Mrs. ” He shook his head. Where is he?" "Here," answered Jack. Frequently he would take up a box of talc and send a shower down his back, or fill his palms with the powder and rub his face and arms and hands.
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