There was a very large mother at the Quiz Bowl today with her baby plastered to her barely covered, florid breast, from whom I looked away in shock. Was it grotesque? I looked back at her more than once, trying not to seem to watch her baby wallow in warm intimacy and how she hugged her other child to her other side. There was so much of her, belly, arms, breasts, hunched there on her chair with quiet dignity and depth in her dark eyes.
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