My Sentences Tend To Be

I Took The T From Logan Airport To Harvard Square. I Hate Driving In Boston. It's The Traffic That Drives Me Spare, And The Absolutely Terrible Manners Of The Motorists. Other New Englanders Refer To Massachusetts Drivers As "massholes.

The Day In 2004 When The Radiologist Told Me I Had Invasive Cancer, I Walked Down The Hospital Corridor Looking For A Phone To Call My Husband, And I Could Almost See The Fear Coming Toward Me Like A Big, Black Shadow.

All The Times, All The Very Many Times, I Had Been Forced To Thwart And Stifle My Own Nature Seemed To Gather Together Then, In That Hot And Dismal Corridor. I Heard A Rushing Sound In My Head And Felt A Pressure In My Breast, Like Floodwaters Rising Behind A Flimsy Dike. Before I Knew I Did It, The Soup Bowl Was Rising In My Hand As If Elevated By Some Supernatural Force. Then, Its Yellow-gray Contents Were Running Down The Nurse's Pudgy Face.

Men Can Absent Themselves From Real Life For Their Art More Easily. Women Are Anchored Into The Quotidian Business Of Getting Food On The Table, Making Sure Everybody's Socks Match, The Soccer Gear Is Ready. I Admire Idealists, But They're Usually Enabled By Someone Who Holds The Tether On Their Balloon, Who Pays The Bills And Sweeps Up After Them.

She Was Like A Butterfly, Full Of Color And Vibrancy When She Chose To Open Her Wings, Yet Hardly Visible When She Closed Them.