We Traveled For Two Weeks With A

At This Moment, The Story In His Head Was Perfect. He Also Knew From Experience That It Would Degenerate The Second He Started Typing, Because Such Was The Nature Of Writing.

Being The Survivor Stinks.

Life Goes On With Fragile Normalcy.

I Strain To Hear, But My Old Ears, For All Their Obscene Hugeness, Pick Up Nothing But Snippets.

The Sky The Sky- Same As It Always Was.