Perhaps home-made
sandwiches are much more than nourishment, they are messages from home, love
letters in clear plastic bags that say: You
are not alone. Here is something a little special to brighten your day.
But maybe the knives that spread the love cut both ways. As harried moms and devoted dads rush to fill domestic orders, sometimes the fruits of their labors turn them inside out in a crazy-quilt of conflict and difficulty. Yet it’s the sort of thing one easily forgets when, at the end of the day, small clouds that obscure the lustrous moon loosen and glide smoothly and evenly away.
