Smell Is Important. It Reminds A Person

One Must Use The Night.

Now Everything Was Changed. She Walked About With Cautious, Anxious Steps, Staring Constantly At The Ground, On The Lookout For Things That Crept And Crawled. Bushes Were Dangerous, And So Were Sea Grass And Rain Water. There Were Little Animals Everywhere. They Could Turn Up Between The Covers Of A Book, Flattened And Dead, For The Fact Is That Creeping Animals, Tattered Animals, And Dead Animals Are With Us All Our Lives, From Beginning To End. Grandmother Tried To Discuss This With Her, To No Avail. Irrational Terror Is So Hard To Deal With.

Anyway, Solitary People Interest Me. There Are So Many Different Ways Of Being Solitary.' 'i Know Just What You Mean,' Said X. 'i Know Exactly What You're Going To Say. Different Kinds Of Solitude. Enforced Solitude And Voluntary Solitude.' 'quite,' Said Viktoria. 'there's No Need To Go Into It Further. But When People Understand One Another Without Speaking, It Can Often Leave Them With Very Little To Talk About, Don't You Think?

A Very Long Time Ago, Grandmother Had Wanted To Tell About All The Things They Did, But No One Had Bothered To Ask. And Now She Had Lost The Urge.

I Mean, Anyone Can Let Danger Out But The Really Clever Thing Is Finding Somewhere For It To Go Afterwards.