We Lead Strange Lives, Chasing

I Find I Think Of Myself Not As A Writer So Much As Someone Who Provides A Gateway, A Tangential Route For Readers To Reach The Circus. To Visit The Circus Again, If Only In Their Minds, When They Are Unable To Attend It Physically. I Relay It Through Printed Words On Crumpled Newsprint, Words That They Can Read Again And Again, Returning To The Circus Whenever They Wish, Regardless Of Time Of Day Or Physical Location. Transporting Them At Will. When Put That Way, It Sounds Rather Like Magic, Doesn't It? P.369

What Happened?" Bailey Asks. "that Is Somewhat Difficult To Explain," Tsukiko Answers. "it Is A Long And Complicated Story." "and You're Not Going To Tell Me, Are You?" She Tilts Her Head A Bit ... "no, I Am Not," She Says. "great," Bailey Mutters Under His Breath... "the Bonfire Exploded? How?" "remember When I Said It Was Difficult To Explain? That Has Not Changed.

How Are You Managing To Keep Everyone From Aging?” Celia Asks After A While. “very Carefully,” Marco Answers.

Timing Is A Sensitive Thing.

And Now, I'm A Best Selling Author, A Different Sort Of Fairy Tale That I Still Sometimes Wonder When I'll Wake Up From.