In Each Man's Heart There

Cassandra Wondered At The Mind's Cruel Ability To Toss Up Flecks Of The Past. Why, As She Neared Her Life's End, Her Grandmother's Head Should Ring With The Voices Of People Long Since Gone. Was It Always This Way? Did Those With Passage Booked On Death's Silent Ship Always Scan The Dock For Faces Of The Long-departed?

You'll Beat This. I Know It Doesn't Feel Like It, But You Will. You're A Survivor." "i Don't Want To Survive It." "i Know That, Too," Nell Had Said. "and It's Fair Enough. But Sometimes We Don't Have A Choice.

She's One Of The Few People Able To Look Beyond The Lines On My Face To See The Twenty-year-old Who Lives Inside.

But In My Humble Opinion, A House Needs A Good Party Once In A While; Remind Folks It Exists.

Thinking Of Nothing. Trying To Think Of Nothing. Thinking Of Everything.