Alice Munro

But are there other people who open a shop with the hope of being sheltered there, among such things as they most value – the yarn or the teacups or the books – and with the idea only of making a comfortable assertion? They will become a part of the block, a part of the street, part of everybody’s map of the town, and eventually of everybody’s memories. They will sit and drink coffee in the middle of the morning, they will get out the familiar bits of tinsel at Christmas, they will wash the windows in spring before spreading out the new stock. Shops, to these people, are what a cabin in the woods might be to somebody else – a refuge and a justification.

But still beautiful, she couldn’t lose it.

No doubt Char had seen it. But did she know how freely it was being distributed?

Et was left knowing more; she was left knowing what Char looked like when she lost her powers, abdicated