“Shelley has her big pink cardie on, off to the Arctic. She’s slight, slim, like her mother, with Monica’s big blue eyes and her father’s defensive air. Her hair’s a tangle of dreadlocks and beneath the cardigan she wears a complicated system of fishnet and cheese-cloth, lace and linen; a life-sized Bratz doll.
She looks down on him with an expression of hurtful indifference. What is he to her, a whale, a sea monster from the depths of the past, fading before her eyes? She doesn’t even respond to the little notes he leaves her anymore - he isn’t just disappearing, he’s becoming illegible...”
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