Ten years after releasing her last work of fiction, Polly Samson is back with a new story collection, Perfect Lives.
It seemed to Polly that the days fairly crept by, instead of galloping past as they had been wont to do in the last three years.
One day old Bab was hoeing in a field and got in a squabble about something with a young gal name Polly, same name as his wife.
Polly, beside him, was peering around delightedly, sparkling with the general excitement.
I have heard that story about Polly's dying in the night ever since I can remember; and she hasn't died yet.
Polly was profuse in her thanks, and when it was finished, called to her father to come and admire it.
