I think of the children who will never know, intuitively, that a flower is a plant’s way of making love, or what silence sounds like, or that trees breathe out what we breathe in.
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E.C. Salibian is a nonfiction writer who lives in Rochester, New York, with two cats named Gadu Meg and Gadu Yergoo. Her work has appeared in the Los Angeles Review of Books and other publications. Born in Casablanca, Morocco, she is at work on a memoir about her zestfully unassimilated Armenian American family.
I’m convinced the most accurate way to gauge your survival odds when you have cancer is not by the size, type, or grade of the tumor but by the size and splendor of the tropical-fish tank in your doctor’s waiting room. If it’s over thirty gallons and stocked with anything neon, you’d better start wondering why they want you so calm.