No One Can Tell You What Your

Ghost?” St. Vincent Shot Him An Incredulous Glance. “christ. You’re Not Serious, Are You?” "i’m A Gypsy,” Cam Replied Matter-of-factly. “of Course I Believe In Ghosts.” “only Half Gypsy. Which Led Me To Assume That The Rest Of You Was At Least Marginally Sane And Rational.” “the Other Half Is Irish,” Cam Said A Touch Apologetically. “christ,” St. Vincent Said Again, Shaking His Head As He Strode Away.

I Reflected That For All The People You Lost Touch With Or Couldn't Hold On To, Life Occasionally Made Up For It By Giving You The Right Person At The Right Time.

One Of The Blessings Human Beings Take For Granted Is The Ability To Remember Pain Without Re-feeling It. The Pain Of The Physical Wounds Is Long Gone …and The Other Kind Of Hurt, The Damage Done To Our Spirits, Has Been Healed. We Are Careful With Those Scarred Places In Each Other.

I Want Morning And Noon And Nightfall With You. I Want Your Tears, Your Smiles, Your Kisses...the Smell Of Your Hair, The Taste Of Your Skin, The Touch Of Your Breath On My Face. I Want To See You In The Final Hour Of My Life...to Lie In Your Arms As I Take My Last Breath.

It Was Often In Small Moments That Significant Things Were Revealed.