Lying On The Front Passenger Seat, As

I Decided To Write Short Stories Because They Got Rejected Quicker.

She Had Gradually Changed Her Name. "jane" Was Too Dull. Last Year, She'd Added A "y", Becoming Jayne, Which Had More Personality.

I Wonder Why We Always Deny Love. I Remember In Middle School, If You Were Accused Of The Crime Of Loving, You Screamed Denials Constantly And Stopped Ever Even Looking At The Boy You Were Accused Of Liking. The Boys Could Destroy Each Other By Yodeling, "an-drew Lo-oves Jen-nie," And Both Andrew And Jennie Would Flinch And Blush. Love Is This Great Thing That Most Songs And Books And Poems And Lives Are All About. So The Minute We Actually Think There Might Be Love Around, We Start Laughing And Pretending And Hiding From It.

I Love Writing And Do Not Know Why It Is Considered Such A Difficult, Agonizing Profession.

What More Can Life Hold, Than To Know That Because Of Your Story, Somebody Out There Has Decided To Read Again!