A Huge Lame Bun.


“Maybe the first time you saw her you were ten. She was standing
 in the sun scratching her legs. Or tracing letters in the dirt with 
a stick. Her hair was being pulled. Or she was pulling someone's hair.
 And a part of you was drawn to her, and a part of you resisted--
wanting to ride off on your bicycle, kick a stone, remain 
uncomplicated. In the same breath you felt the strength of a man,
 and a self-pitythat made you feel small and hurt. Part of you
 thought: Please don't look at me. If you don't, I can still
 turn away. And part of youthought: Look at me.” ― Nicole Krauss
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