Slowly and ruefully she realized why marriage was so idealized among her generations of those before her. ” “Not exactly,” he answered nervously. It is the old story of a Westerner meddling with an Eastern custom. Michelle sat on her bed, which emanated scents of powdered laundry detergent and Sweet Honesty perfume. Her head rose. The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain. She wants that and needs it more than anything else in the world. White. Part of her even believed that her mother would have wanted her to stop feeling guilty and to be happy.
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