Although Will Never Love Anyone

Although Will Never Love Anyone Again, Don't Want To Become Bitter. Or Creative.

Slasher Hathaway Marks His Territory By Spending Money. He Might As Well Have Pissed On Her. It Means Nothing.

The Back Windows Looked Out Over The Fields, Then The Atlantic, Maybe A Hundred Yards Away. Actually, I'm Just Making That Bit Up. I Had No Idea How Far Away The Sea Was. Only Men Could Do Things Like That. "half A Mile." "fifty Yards." Giving Directions, That Sort Of Thing. I Could Look At A Woman And Say "thirty-six C." Or "let's Try It In The Next Size Up." But I Had No Idea How Far Away Tim's Sea Was Except That I Wouldn't Want To Walk To It In High Heels.

I Love Prada. Not So Much The Clothes, Which Are For Malnourished Thirteen-year-olds, But I Covet, With Covety Covetousness, The Shoes And Handbags. Like, I Love Them. If I Was Given A Choice Between World Peace And A Prada Handbag, I'd Dither. (i'm Not Proud Of This, I'm Only Saying.)

I Loved Being In My Own Head So Much, It Was Getting Harder And Harder Being With Other People.