I Feel Like I Swallowed

My Dad Was A Presbyterian Minister. Yes, I Am One Of Those Dreaded P.k.s - Preachers Kids. Be Afraid.

We're All Strangers Connected By What We Reveal, What We Share, What We Take Away--our Stories. I Guess That's What I Love About Books--they Are Thin Strands Of Humanity That Tether Us To One Another For A Small Bit Of Time, That Make Us Feel Less Alone Or Even More Comfortable With Our Aloneness, If Need Be.

The Glow Dies Down, And She's Standing At The End Of My Bed--the One Who's Been Following Me Around Leaving Feather Messages. I Take In The Torn Fishnets, Plaid Mini-kilt, Shiny, Riveted Breastplate With Leather Straps At The Sides And A Worn Great Temolo Decal Near The Left Shoulder. Her Wings Are A Crazy Black-and-white-checkered Pattern, Like They've Been Spray-painted At A Body Shop To Look Like Hipster Sneakers.

In Them, She Saw The Sham Of Her Life Laid Out Like A Book, The Foolish Belief That She, That Anyone, Could Escape The Consequences Of This World, Could Flee From Death. That Was The Deceit. The True Serpent In The Garden.

I'm Sorry,' He Says Simply. 'people Make Mistakes, Gemma. We Take The Wrong Action For The Right Reasons, And The Right Action For The Wrong Reasons.