There's No Shortage Of Orphans

A Moment Passed, Perhaps Half A Second When Their Faces Said What They Felt, And Then Emma Was Smiling, Laughing, Her Arms Around His Neck.

…and Emma Felt Another Small Portion Of Her Soul Fall Away.

…and You Smile Back And Try Not To Think About The Fact That You Have Nothing, Absolutely Nothing, To Say To Each Other.

I Can't Believe It's Actually Happening. This Is Independent Adulthood, This Is What It Feels Like. Shouldn't There Be Some Sort Of Ritual? In Certain Remote African Tribes There'd Be Some Incredible Four Day Rites Of Passage Ceremony Involving Tattooing And Potent Hallucinogenic Drugs Extracted From Tree-frogs, And Village Elders Smearing My Body With Monkey Blood, But Here,rites Of Passage Is All About Three New Pairs Of Pants And Stuffing Your Duvet In A Bin-liner.

So Must People Hate Their Jobs.that's Why They're Called It Jobs