He Would Work Through The Night And

We Knew So Little About Eachother. We Lay Mostly Submerged, Like Ice Floes With Our Visible Social Selves Projecting Only Cool And White. Here Was A Rare Sight Below The Waves, Of A Man's Privacy And Turmoil, Of His Dignity Upended By The Overpowering Necessity Of Pure Fantasy, Pure Thought, By The Irreducible Human Element - Mind.

Screenwriting Is An Opportunity To Fly First Class, Be Treated Like A Celebrity, Sit Around The Pool And Be Betrayed.

...the World She Ran Through Loved Her And Would Give Her What She Wanted And Would Let It Happen.

I Believe The Novella Is The Perfect Form Of Prose Fiction.

She Returned His Gaze, Struck By The Sense Of Her Own Transformation, And Overwhelmed By The Beauty Which A Lifetime Havit Had Taught Her To Ignore.