You Alone Became The Outer

Oh, How Good It Is To Be With Someone, Sometimes.

What She Said Was Always Strange. It Had Happened Long Ago. It Seemed Insignificant. And Yet It Was Something You Remembered Forever. The Words As Well As The Story. The Voice As Much As The Words.

When It's In A Book I Don't Think It'll Hurt Any More ...exist Any More. One Of The Things Writing Does Is Wipe Things Out. Replace Them.

Their Voices Reach Out Into The Empty Yard, Plunge Deep Into The Hills, Go Right Through The Heart.

I Don't Have General Views About Anything, Except Social Injustice.