Respuestas
Respuesta:
Improbabilities
Image of light reflected on elevator doors.Our existence defies the odds, our parents’ second set of identical twins—a one in 70,000 chance. Even more improbable that they married at all: his balding head, shabby overalls, shoes mended by duct tape. She applies her make-up and curls her hair daily; she stoops to fluff up the carpet where he has laid and flattened it. An unlikely match. An improbability. Even more improbable that they met at all: a poor farmer makes his way to the twenty-third floor of a stock brokerage firm, hoping for a job; a young woman enters the elevator, presses the twenty-third button.
Photo Story: Devil’s Breath
Photo of a melting ice cube.Some days there wasn’t enough starch in the world. Jessie’s shirtwaist wilted against her body. In the street the ice wagon raised baked-dust clouds. Only Mr. Willis looked fresh and cool, as if carrying that ice around kept him safe in some frosted land.
“It’s a scorcher!”
“My mother called days like this the devil’s breath.”
“I’ll bet she was fair like you. Skin ice wouldn’t melt on.”
Mr. Willis chipped off a perfect, blue-tinged ice cube for her. Jessie held it to her throat as he watched, felt the cool drops running down her chest, proving that iceman wrong.