<blockquote>“We always want the mole-year to come, don’t we?” I said.
“Well, you and William will vote as you like,” said Dad.
Mom held the kitten belly-up in her arms like a baby. With a furrowed brow, she said, “Dad and I always pray, and wish, and vote in favor. Who wouldn’t want more life?”
“But people do vote no,” I said, and we were quiet, each perhaps imagining what might bring someone to vote no.
In a moment Mom had put on her coat and was holding out Lucy’s.
“What will I do?” said Lucy.
“You’re too little. Can’t vote, can’t choose,” said William.
Lucy stood and backed into her coat, scowling. “It isn’t real anyways.”</blockquote>
