Everything You See, You Might Be Seeing

Just... Ate," M Says, Frowning At Me A Little. "two Days...ago." I Grab My Stomach Again. "feel Empty. Feel... Dead." He Nods. "marr...iage.

Nothing Is Permanent. Not Even The End Of The World.

Writing Isn't Letters On Paper. It's Communication. It's Memory.

Came To . . . See You.” “but I Had To Go Home, Remember? You Were Supposed To Say Good-bye.” “don't Know Why You . . . Say Good-bye. I Say . . . Hello.” Her Lip Quivers Between Reactions, But She Ends Up With A Reluctant Smile. “god You're A Cheeseball. But Seriously, R—

I'm Not A General Or A Colonel Or A Builder Of Cities. I'm Just A Corpse Who Wants Not To Be.