Nothing Is Ever Certain.

The Alcohol Had The Effect Of Making The Black Cloth Blacker. This Amused Her; She Had Noted In Her Journal: "booze Affects Material As It Does People.

It Was Buckley, As My Father And Sister Joined The Group And Listened To Grandma Lynn’s Countless Toasts, Who Saw Me. He Saw Me Standing Under The Rustic Colonial Clock And Stared. He Was Drinking Champagne. There Were Strings Coming Out From All Around Me, Reaching Out, Waving In The Air. Someone Passed Him A Brownie. He Held It In His Hand But Did Not Eat. He Saw My Shape And Face, Which Had Not Changed-the Hair Still Parted Down The Middle, The Chest Still Flat And Hips Undeveloped-and Wanted To Call Out My Name. It Was Only A Moment, And Then I Was Gone.

She Didn't Even Have To Smile, And She Rarely Did Outside Her House--it Was The Eyes, Her Dancer's Carriage, The Way She Seemed To Deliberate Over The Smallest Movement Of Her Body.

But I Know I Would Not Go Out. I Had Taken This Time To Fall In Love Instead — In Love With The Sort Of Helplessness I Had Not Felt In Death — The Helplessness Of Being Alive, The Dark Bright Pity Of Being Human — Feeling As You Went, Groping In Corners And Opening Your Arms To Light - All Of It Part Of Navigating The Unknown.

Sometimes The Dreams That Come True Are The Dreams You Never Even Knew You Had.