The Worst Of It Is Over Now,

I Told Him About The Way They Get To Know You. Not The Way People Do, The Way They Flatter You By Wanting To Know Every Last Thing About You, Only It Isn't A Compliment, It Is Just Efficient, A Person Getting More Quickly To The End Of You. Correction - Dogs Do Want To Know Every Last Thing About You. They Take In The Smell Of You, They Know From The Next Room, Asleep, When A Mood Settles Over You. The Difference Is There's Not An End To It.

I've Always Known When I Start A Story What The Last Line Is. It's Always Been The Case, Since The First Story I Ever Wrote. I Don't Know How It's Going To Get There, But I Seem To Need The Destination. I Need To Know Where I End Up. It Never Changes, Ever.

What I Think," Chatty Says, "is That If A Man Loves A Woman More Than A Woman Loves A Man, Then They're Even.

I Moved Through The Days Like A Severed Head That Finishes A Sentence.

Maybe This Is Not A Come-down-from-the-ledge Story. But I Tell It With The Thought That The Woman On The Ledge Will Ask Herself A Question, The Question That Occurred To That Man In Bogota. He Wondered How We Know That What Happens To Us Isn't Good?