Every Story We Remember Is

I Still Get My News From The Newspaper In The Morning. I Just Have An Affection For Paper, And That's No Secret, I Guess.

He Remained, Weeks After Awakening, In That Period Of Early-morning Consciousness That Allows Easy Re-entry To Dreaming. His Limbs Still Tingled With The Residue Of Sleep, And Most Days He Wanted Badly To Allow It To Overtake Him Again.

I Often Cannot Believe The Things I Do.

At That Moment I Was Sure. That I Belonged In My Skin. That My Organs Were Mine And My Eyes Were Mine And My Ears, Which Could Only Hear The Silence Of This Night And My Faint Breathing, Were Mine, And I Loved Them And What They Could Do.

I Went To Public School All My Life And All Through College And I Liked It.