In , Kathleen Quigley offers a sensual exploration of that which goes missing, creating a world of textures -- bristling hairs, the contours of a lip, the tender fingertips of a friend pressed against a face or scalp. Yet the memoir is also the tale of psychological interiors and the close emotional bond between two women, best friends and college track mates, who undergo distinct cancer odysseys separated by three decades. Despite the intensity of the subject matter, a wry humor wanders in and out of the braided narrative, heightening the pathos with a modest flourish at one moment and landing a blow directed at insensitive strangers the next. With Quigley's sure-handed voice, the world at large gains a mighty cancer foe, and the world of literature gains a dynamic and gifted writer.