Imagery:
"I think of the table by the window as 'Anna's table' and it is covered with her papers. I've arranged them chronologically as much as I could; the undated sheets I've compared to dated ones and matched the paper. They stand in twelve piles, one for each year - some years are more substantial than others. The journals stand alone. I have tried not to read through them, to read only one year at a time. But then I know how the story ends. I don't think that matters. We always know how the story ends. What we don't know is what happens along the way."
In his voice there was a note almost of regret. But his hand was still tangled in her hair and he pulled her head back so she had to look up at him as he said, 'I'm old enough to be your father.' "'I know,' she'd said, 'It doesn't matter.' "'Yes, it does,' he said. His hand had caressed her cheek for a moment; his thumb had brushed over her lip. He murmured, 'Take care,' and walked out of the door, leaving her with the ache."
The Map of Love