I Have Tried," I Said, "but He

I Am Sad, Sad As A Circus-lioness.

Would You Like A Whiskey?' I Say. 'i've Got Some.' (that's Original. I Bet Nobody's Ever Thought Of That Way Of Bridging The Gap Before.)

One Realized All Sorts Of Things. The Value Of An Illusion, For Instance, And That The Shadow Can Be More Important Than The Substance. All Sorts Of Things.

A Room Is, After All, A Place Where You Hide From The Wolves. That's All Any Room Is.

As Soon As I Turned The Key I Saw It Hanging, The Color Of Fire And Sunset. The Colour Of Flamboyant Flowers. ‘if You Are Buried Under A Flamboyant Tree, ‘ I Said, ‘your Soul Is Lifted Up When It Flowers. Everyone Wants That.’ She Shook Her Head But She Did Not Move Or Touch Me.