If You Have A Single Narrator, A

Any Work Of Art, Provided It Springs From A Sincere Motivation To Further Understanding Between People, Is An Act Of Faith And Therefore Is An Act Of Love.

And In This Moment, Like A Swift Intake Of Breath, The Rain Came.

It Should Take You About Four Seconds To Walk From Here To The Door. I'll Give You Two.

It Snowed All Week. Wheels And Footsteps Moved Soundlessly On The Street, As If The Business Of Living Continued Secretly Behind A Pale But Impenetrable Curtain. In The Falling Quiet There Was No Sky Or Earth, Only Snow Lifting In The Wind, Frosting The Window Glass, Chilling The Rooms, Deadening And Hushing The City. At All Hours It Was Necessary To Keep A Lamp Lighted, And Mrs. Miller Lost Track Of The Days: Friday Was No Different From Saturday And On Sunday She Went To The Grocery: Closed, Of Course.

In California Everyone Goes To A Therapist, Is A Therapist, Or Is A Therapist Going To A Therapist.