she remained bent at the knees, trying to absorb his raw presence, the wiry body and drawn look. what an epic force he must have seemed to her, taking shape in her kitchen this way, a parent, a father with all the grist of years on him, the whole dense history of associations and connections, come to remind her who she was, to remove her disguise, grab hold of her maundering life for a time, without warning. -white noise