It's Not In Good Taste To Have

And So It Happened Again, The Daily Miracle Whereby Interiority Opens Out And Brings To Bloom The Million-petalled Flower Of Being Here, In The World, With Other People. Neither As Hard As She Had Thought It Might Be Nor As Easy As It Appeared.

The Past Is Always Tense, The Future Perfect.

This, After All, Was The Month In Which Families Began Tightening And Closing And Sealing; From Thanksgiving To The New Year, Everybody's World Contracted, Day By Day, Into The Microcosmic Single Festive Household, Each With Its Own Rituals And Obsessions, Rules And Dreams. You Didn't Feel You Could Call People. They Didn't Feel They Could Phone You. How Does One Cry For Help From These Seasonal Prisons?

Generally, Women Can't Do This, But Men Retain The Ancient Ability To Leave A Family And A Past. They Just Unhook Themselves, Like Removing A Fake Beard, And Skulk Discreetly Back Into Society, Changed Men. Unrecognizable.

Tell The Truth Through Whichever Veil Comes To Hand - But Tell It.