We Walk The Plank With Strangers.

It Was Sometime In October; She Had Long Ago Lost Track Of All The Days And It Really Didn’t Matter Because One Was Like Another And There Were No Nights To Separate Them Because She Never Slept Any More.

I May Never Be Happy, But Tonight I Am Content.

The Lawn Was White With Doctors

There Ought, I Thought, To Be A Ritual For Being Born Twice - Patched, Retreaded And Approved For The Road.

If Only A Group Of People Were More Important To Me Than The Idea Of A Novel, I Might Begin A Novel.