How Hard Can It Be

I Was Always Searching, Always Seeking The Next Big Thing, Because That Was The Thing That Was Going To Make Everything All Right Again. And While I Was Working Toward It, It Gave Me Something To Think About Other Than That Thing I Couldn't Put My Finger On. But It Always Came Back.

I Am Ninety. Or Ninety-three. One Or The Other.

I Scan The Room. Catherine Is Writing Quickly, Her Light Brown Hair Falling Over Her Face. She Is Left-handed, And Because She Writes In Pencil Her Left Arm Is Silver From Wrist To Elbow.

They Grew Fat And Happy--the Horses, Not The Children, Or Marlena For That Matter.

Hey! Shouts Camel. There Ain't No Woman In The World Worth Two Bottles Of Whiskey!