They are, well.

They are a bit like tiny pets to me.” And at that, Zachary let out a great whooping laugh, the tension leaving his body in one enormous exhale, and after a second, helpless, I started to laugh too.

I talk to my starters.

Of all the sentences my mother-in-law could have said to explain the mysterious humming behind the locked door, that one undid me completely, because it was so purely, so helplessly Jacqueline.

The terrifying rhythmic murmuring I had heard through the door, the sound I had filed away as sinister and unexplained, was a woman softly encouraging her sourdough.