From "Metronome"

His first time had been in Cambridge and had been a long time coming. Jin had endured four years of Brian Carrs and Z.J Maloneys at Pooleville high school, too terrified by the gnarled grapevine of teenage affinities to reach out to the dark-clothed girls in whom he might have confided. It wasn’t until Jin was at Longy, far enough away from his mother’s suspicious clucks and the burgeoning soil bed of his sister’s superiority that he felt comfortable enough to stop lying. Not that he “came out”, by any means, he just put an end to the elaborate fibs that got him through so many Sadie Hawkins dances in high school.

The boy’s name was Sascha, and he was a trumpet player. He played in a jazz band called the Devlin 5, although there were only four of them. For a trumpet player, he’d been a terrible kisser. Slobbery and tepid, he had an irritating habit of sucking in his cheeks while he was being pleasured, which made him look like a particularly alert bird.

From "Metronome"

Jin had played out the scenario where he answered her question truthfully, and it was a scenario that ended dismally for everyone involved. It was bad enough sleeping with men that didn’t interest him. If he had to think of his mother’s anxiety every time he reached for a tube of Frixion, he would never be able to make sense of his needs.

From "Metronome"

Mark liked fish tacos and cheese polenta, he’d “had it” with Shiraz, and his ideal morning involved a run, a cappuccino and some sort of baked good. In his photo, he had a weak chin and dimples, and the kind of sparkle in his eyes that made you forgive whatever unfortunate things were accruing below- a paunch, graying chest hair, or a pudgy chin.

From "White Bowls in White Cupboards"

Sonia looked around their bedroom at the things she had accumulated and the books she hadn’t read. If she had a choice, she would have lived near the ocean- preferably on an elevated floor with inspirational and often-changing views, but there wasn’t a great deal of sea-frontage that came without traffic, and she hated the sound of idling cars.

From "White Bowls in White Cupboards"

Sometimes, Teresa worried about becoming a big softie. One of those jumpy types who talked too quickly to remember what she’d said. One of Sarah’s friends was exactly like this. One time, when she’d been over to the house in Purchase, she took a liking to a candle Teresa had created. It smelled like a watermelon and had tiny “seeds” made out of licorice. This woman, Annie, said she had a friend who had a home store in Port Chester where she sold linens and candles and miniature books of quotations. Annie told Teresa she would bring her by one day with her watermelon candles, but the next time she came over, she didn’t mention it, and Teresa had been taught never to beg.

From "Homemade"

Teresa loved her sister but she found her careless. Last year for Christmas, she’d sent Teresa a carton full of ducklings. She must have thought she was only ordering one, because the card that came with it said “I hope you like him!”. There were 100 ducklings in that flat box, 25 per grid. Teresa had to spend an hour and a half on the telephone before she could find someone to take them.

From "White Bowls in White Cupboards"

Sonia couldn’t imagine Ridley with a family of his own. He had a discomforting aura about him that caused people to sit up straighter, like the first roll of thunder on a hot summer night. Even people that had never met him before felt instinctively disturbed by him, like a small, garish animal you might find in your backyard. A battered squirrel with a bit of bone showing through. A dismembered liver. The smile of a cat.