She doesn't stumble, but there's a slight hitch to her step that telegraphs plain as day that she hasn't missed the significance of that remark.
It's not autobiographical memory, but it's still a piece of the life that had been stolen from him. That's not nothing.
She picks up the box of tissues from the breakfast bar and trots back, holding it out to him.
"We can find you one in town when this finally stops," she says, tilting her head towards the snow-entombed window, in case there's any confusion as to which this she's referring to.
no subject
She doesn't stumble, but there's a slight hitch to her step that telegraphs plain as day that she hasn't missed the significance of that remark.
It's not autobiographical memory, but it's still a piece of the life that had been stolen from him. That's not nothing.
She picks up the box of tissues from the breakfast bar and trots back, holding it out to him.
"We can find you one in town when this finally stops," she says, tilting her head towards the snow-entombed window, in case there's any confusion as to which this she's referring to.