She lifts a bowl of kheer and her thoughts, flittering like dusty sparrows in a brown back alley, turn a sudden kingfisher blue.

“...the bird began to carry them to a new life in a new land. We'll be happy eve…”

“May your heart be mine, may my heart be yours. May your sorrows be mine, may my…”

“I closed my eyes and willed my breath to slow, my conscious mind to fold itself…”

“The heart itself is beyond control. That is its power, and its weakness.”