I was instructed to return to the tables and insert the form into the machine. In broad daylight. After the machine reported I skipped some circles, and I approved it nonetheless, there was a little button to push. As anti-climactic a vote as I’ve ever made.
Carrie was morose last Mother’s Day: She wasn’t pregnant, and the world seemed full of joyful women and their children. But the next day, she went to the clinic for a blood test; an hour later, the nurse called with good news.