Being With People Makes Me Vomit. I

Nothing Ever Begins. There Is No First Moment; No Single Word Or Place From Which This Or Any Story Springs. The Threads Can Always Be Traced Back To Some Earlier Tale, And The Tales That Preceded That; Though As The Narrator's Voice Recedes The Connections Will Seem To Grow More Tenuous, For Each Age Will Want The Tale Told As If It Were Of Its Own Making.

Wherever I Go, I Will Speak Of You With Love.

Midian Is Where The Monsters Go.

It Was As Though In These Last Minutes Together - When They Had So Much To Say - They Could Say Nothing Of The Least Significance, For Fear It Open The Floodgates.

Leavening The Flat Bread Of What We Know, With The Yeast Of What We Dream May Come To Pass.