By Things So Achingly Small Are Lives

There Was Some Sadness In How That Could Happen, Tai Thought: Falling Out Of Love With Something That Had Shaped You. Or Even People Who Had? But If You Didn't Change At Least A Little, Where Were The Passages Of A Life? Didn't Learning, Changing, Sometimes Mean Letting Go Of What Had Once Been Seen As True?

How We Remember Changes How We Have Lived. Time Runs Both Ways. We Make Stories Of Our Lives.

We Salvage What We Can, What Truly Matters To Us, Even At The Gates Of Despair.

She Was Owner And Captive, Both, Of A Bitterly Divided Heart.

My Youngest Brother Had A Wonderful Schtick From Some Time In High School, Through To Graduating Medicine. He Had A Card In His Wallet That Read, ‘if I Am Found With Amnesia, Please Give Me The Following Books To Read …’ And It Listed Half A Dozen Books Where He Longed To Recapture That First Glorious Sense Of Needing To Find Out ‘what Happens Next’ … The Feeling That Keeps You Up Half The Night. The Feeling That Comes Before The Plot’s Been Learned.