In Books, The Truth Makes Everything Good

Theta Crashed Next To Them On The Thick Zebra-skin Rug. “i’m Embalmed.” “potted And Splificated?” “ossified To The Gills. Time For Night-night.

Felicity And I Watch The Dancers Moving As One. They Spin About Like The Earth On It's Axis, Enduring The Dark, Waiting For The Sun.

The Sun Has Blessed You," Sarita Used To Say. "look How He Has Left His Kisses On Your Face For All To See And Be Jealous." "the Sun Loves You More," I Said, Rubbing My Hands Over Her Dry Arms, The Color Of An Aged Wine Gourd, And She Laughed. But This Is Not India And We Are Not Prized For Our Freckles Here. The Sun Is Not Allowed To Show His Love.

I Changed My Mind. I Don’t Want To Be An Inveshtigative Journalist Anymore. I Want To Be A Professional Rum Drinker.” “there Are People Who Do That,” Duff Said. He’d Barely Sipped His Rum. “really? What Do You Call Them?” “alcoholics.

You Can Never Know About About Your Own Destiny: Are The People You Meet There To Play A Part On Your Oun Destiny, Or Do You Exist Just To Play A Role In Theirs?