She Always Had That About Her, That

Like A Domestic Cat, Purring On The Sofa By Day, But By Night, A Strutting Queen, A Natural Killer, Disdainful Of Her Other Life.

Sheep Are Not The Docile, Pleasant Creatures Of The Pastoral Idyll. Any Countryman Will Tell You That. They Are Sly, Occasionally Vicious, Pathologically Stupid. The Lenient Shepherd May Find His Flock Unruly, Definant. I Cannot Afford To Be Lenient.

The Wind Always Brings Us Back To The Same Wall

A Named Thing Is A Tamed Thing.

Places Have Their Own Characters. . . . But The People Begin To Look The Same.