What Happened?" Bailey Asks. "that Is Somewhat

I Suggest You Keep Your Distance From Her And Concentrate On Your Own Work.” “i’m In Love With Her.” “i Am Sorry To Hear That,” He Says. “it Will Make The Challenge A Great Deal More Difficult For You.” “we Have Been Playing At This For More Than A Decade, When Does It End?” “it Ends When There Is A Victor.

Secrets Have Power. And That Power Diminishes When They Are Shared, So They Are Best Kept And Kept Well. Sharing Secrets, Real Secrets, Important Ones, With Even One Other Person, Will Change Them. Writing Them Down Is Worse, Because Who Can Tell How Many Eyes Might See Them Inscribed On Paper, No Matter How Careful You Might Be With It. So It's Really Best To Keep Your Secrets When You Have Them, For Their Own Good, As Well As Yours.

I Do Not Mourn The Loss Of My Sister Because She Will Always Be With Me, In My Heart," She Says. "i Am, However, Rather Annoyed That My Tara Has Left Me To Suffer You Lot Alone. I Do Not See As Well Without Her. I Do Not Hear As Well Without Her. I Do Not Feel As Well Without Her. I Would Be Better Off Without A Hand Or A Leg Than Without My Sister. Then At Least She Would Be Here To Mock My Appearance And Claim To Be The Pretty One For A Change. We Have All Lost Our Tara, But I Have Lost A Part Of Myself As Well.

I Paint Very Messy. I Throw Paint Around. So When I Let Myself Do The Same Sort Of Thing With My Writing, And I Would Just Write And Write And Write And Revise, That's When I Found My Rhythm In Writing.

The Circus Looks Abandoned And Empty. But You Think Perhaps You Can Smell Caramel Wafting Through The Evening Breeze, Beneath The Crisp Scent Of The Autumn Leaves. A Subtle Sweetness At The Edges Of The Cold.