I Wished For Her,” He Says.

Where Do You Get Your Ideas? People Ask. Sometimes They’re At The Bottoms Of Cups Of Tea. Sometimes They’re Lurking In My Shower. Sometimes They’re Waiting Patiently In Glass Cases In Museums.

The Most Difficult Thing To Read Is Time. Maybe Because It Changes So Many Things.

If She Were Gone I Would Be Nothing. You Should Think Better Of Yourself Than To Settle For That.

The Funeral Is A Quiet One, Despite The Number Of Mourners Present. There Are No Sobs Or Flailing Handkerchiefs. There Is A Smattering Of Color Amongst The Sea Of Traditional Black. Even The Light Rain Cannot Push It Down Into The Realms Of Despair. It Rests Instead In A Space Of Thoughtful Melancholy.

The Circus Itself Is My Personal Ideal Entertainment Venue.