I Was Carrying Two Cargoes. Yes, One

I Think The Recent Cluster Of Wwii Novels Is So Good Because We Have Reached An Optimal Distance From The War. Just As A Lens Has Its Focal Length, The Novel Also Has Its Best Distance From The Action.

What Is An Adventure? That Depends On Where You Are Starting From. Little Girls In Your Country, They Hide In The Gap Between The Washing Machine And The Refrigerator And They Make Believe They Are In The Jungle, With Green Snakes And Monkeys All Around Them. Me And My Sister, We Used To Hide In A Gap In The Jungle, With Green Snakes And Monkeys All Around Us, And Make Believe That We Had A Washing Machine And A Refrigerator. You Live In A World Of Machines And You Dream Off Things With Beating Hearts. We Dream Of Machines, Because We See Where Beating Hearts Have Left Us.

When I Reached Fort Binjemma, For Example, Where My Grandfather Was Stationed For A While, The Whole Victorian Fort Was Decaying. Barbed Wire Surrounded It, Spray Paint On The Ancient Walls Claimed It As Private Property, And The Moat Where My Grandfather And His Men Had Grown Crops - In Desperation As The Siege's Hunger Bit - Was Completely Overgrown With Bushes And Trees.

We Cannot Choose Where To Start And Stop. Our Stories Are The Tellers Of Us.

Sad Words Are Just Another Beauty. A Sad Story Means, This Storyteller Is Alive. The Next Thing You Know Something Fine Will Happen To Her, Something Marvelous, And Then She Will Turn Around And Smile.