"We'd better get there soon," said Corwin. "They're probably building new streets in Paris right this minute." "What if I don't want to, being a lesb… - Louise Erdrich

A man finds happiness so fleetingly, like the petals melting off a prairie rose. Even as you touch that feeling it dries up, leaving only the dust of that emotion, a powder of hope. (chapter 9, p99)

If, as I suspect, my body survives by uttering itself over and over again, then I have some questions. If [I] am one word, so are my daughters, so are all of us in strings and loops. Each life is one short word slowly uttered.

People assume there is just one sort of Native experience. No.