I'm sitting at one of the cafe car tables, my legs crossed, my arms crossed, my suitcase at my feet. The steam of my coffee uncoils like a thread into the air, a rope I wish I could climb away.
At a far table a little girl sits in her mother's lap as the mother braids her hair. A small group of tourists huddle together and pose for photos. Others queue for their coffees, tiny cans of soda, and plastic wrapped baguettes. I bring my coffee to my lips, but it's too bitter to drink. . .
Indolence at Publishers Weekly: An "accomplished debut. . . Maria's voice not only carries readers through these pages, but will stick with them afterward."