Let Me Tell You, Alex. He's A

Alex Decided He’d Had Enough. He Put Down His Knife. “all Right,” He Said. “you’ve Made It Pretty Clear That You Don’t Want To Work With Me. Well, That’s Fine. Because I Don’t Want To Work With You Either. And For What It’s Worth, Nobody Would Ever Believe You Were My Mom Because No Mom Would Ever Behave Like You.” “alex…,” Carver Began. “forget It! I’m Going Back To London. And If You’re Mr. Byrne Asks Why, You Can Tell Him I Didn’t Like The Jelly, So I Went Home To Get Some Jam.

We Live In A World With So Many Dangers That We Have To Be Careful Whom We Trust.

I Vividly Remember Being 14. That Was The Age When I Started To Get Happy: I Started Being A Writer And Stopped Being A Loser.

My Father Was Aloof, Very Strange And Very Distant.

Nice Day For A Funeral.