You should not be thirty-five years old and be able to leave your home behind without a day's notice. There should be people to call, troubles to iron out, explanations to give. But there had been none of that. I didn't even get a newspaper. Sometimes the strife that exists between generations becomes a good deal more primal.
Lovers have their own share of strife to deal with.
The dress, placed on a mannequin in the couple's bedroom, becomes the focus of their lives, first because it lends a foreign elegance to their low-rent existence, and then because it skyrockets in value when the princess famously dies. Writing a good short story, like writing good poetry, is the hardest thing in the world to do. There are only a few people who do it well, and those who do it consistently could probably be counted on the fingers of a hand caught in a threshing machine. Her stories show talent of their own, of course, and they all have a general richness of tone and voice that made them fun to read. In most cases, Perabo fears ambiguity, fears not being completely and perfectly understood, and this puppy-dog eagerness to please kept me from wanting to read any story more than once.