You would like Jane. She tells stories with a smooth-tipped pencil, one that had been used often and is in need of sharpening – or else I think she would had I seen her handwriting. She is my pen pal, or, as modern day would call it, my e-mail pal. She is old enough to be my mother, but we hardly talk that way. 
Jane and I have only known each other six weeks. We speak through typewritten words, sent electronically through cyber space. We talk about mothers and children and the lowcountry of South Carolina. She is my friend.
I think …read more