It's Not That He Was Going Nowhere,

I Tried Writing Fiction As A Little Kid, But Had A Teacher Humiliate Me, So Didn't Write Again Until I Was A Senior In College.

It's Not That He Was Going Nowhere, It's That He'd Already Arrived.

Although She Was Giddy With Exhaustion, Sleep Was A Lover Who Refused To Be Touched.

Whenever She Thought She Could Not Feel More Alone, The Universe Peeled Back Another Layer Of Darkness.

I Understood Why She Did It. At That Moment I Knew Why People Tagged Graffiti On The Walls Of Neat Little Houses And Scratched The Paint On New Cars And Beat Up Well-tended Children. It Was Only Natural To Want To Destroy Something You Could Never Have.