I Think Of My Pile Of Old

I Can See,’ Miss Emily Said, ‘that It Might Look As Though You Were Simply Pawns In A Game. It Can Certainly Be Looked At Like That. But Think Of It. You Were Lucky Pawns. There Was A Certain Climate And Now It’s Gone. You Have To Accept That Sometimes That’s How Things Happen In The World. People’s Opinions, Their Feelings, They Go One Way, Then The Other. It Just So Happens You Grew Up At A Certain Point In This Process.’ ‘it Might Be Just Some Trend That Came And Went,’ I Said. ‘but For Us, It’s Our Life.

What I'm Not Sure About, Is If Our Lives Have Been So Different From The Lives Of The People We Save. We All Complete. Maybe None Of Us Really Understand What We've Lived Through, Or Feel We've Had Enough Time.

I Cannot Start A Story Or Chapter Without Knowing How It Ends. ... Of Course, It Rarely Ends That Way.

Memory, I Realize, Can Be An Unreliable Thing; Often It Is Heavily Coloured By The Circumstances In Which One Remembers.

My Donors Have Always Tended To Do Much Better Than Expected.