I Would Not Send A First Story

In Fiction, Plenty Do The Job Of Conveying Information, Rousing Suspense, Painting Characters, Enabling Them To Speak. But Only Certain Sentences Breathe And Shift About, Like Live Matter In Soil.

Most People Trusted In The Future, Assuming That Their Preferred Version Of It Would Unfold. Blindly Planning For It, Envisioning Things That Weren't The Case. This Was The Working Of The Will. This Was What Gave The World Purpose And Direction. Not What Was There But What Was Not.

It's Easy To Set A Story Anywhere If You Get A Good Guidebook And Get Some Basic Street Names, And Some Descriptions, But, For Me, Yes, I Am Indebted To My Travels To India For Several Of The Stories.

Do What I Will Never Do.

The Thought Of Christmas Overwhelms Him. He No Longer Looks Forward To The Holiday; He Wants Only To Be On The Other Side Of The Season. His Impatience Makes Him Feel That He Is Incontrovertibly, Finally, An Adult.