A Person Is, Among All Else, A

Someone Once Asked Me "if Your Life Could Be Extended To 150 And You Could Start Another Career, Would You?" And I Said "no, Thanks, I Think I'll Stick At This."

No One Knew About The Squirrel’s Skull Beneath Briony Bed, But No One Wanted To Know.

How Guilt Refined The Methods Of Self-torture, Threading The Beads Of Detail Into An Eternal Loop, A Rosary To Be Fingered For A Lifetime.

I'm Sorry To Say That Far Worse Things Have Happened And The Literature Of The Holocaust Is A Witness To The Capacity Of The Novel As A Form.

I’ll Wait For You. Come Back. The Words Were Not Meaningless, But They Didn’t Touch Him Now. It Was Clear Enough - One Person Waiting For Another Was Like An Arithmetical Sum, And Just As Empty Of Emotion. Waiting. Simply One Person Doing Nothing, Over Time, While Another Approached. Waiting Was A Heavy Word.