I Like To Think I'm

Or Maybe We'll Make A Home Somewhere Inside Ourselves, To Carry With Us Wherever We Go- Which Is The Way I Carry My Mother Now.

I Have Discovered That Sitting Still Leaves Little Spaces For The Grief To Get In, So I Stay Busy.

All That Land Is Filled With People, Every One Of Them Different, And The Things They Do To Each Other Matter.

Really? I Thought The Transfers Will Go Through Four’s Landscape,” Says Uriah. “like He Would Let Anyone Do That,” She Says, Snorting. Something Inside Me Gets Warm And Soft. He Let Me Go Through It.

I Can’t Answer Either Question. But The Look She Gives Me Reminds Me Of The Look In The Attack Dog’s Eyes In The Aptitude Test – A Vicious, Predatory Stare. She Wants To Rip Me To Pieces. I Can’t Lie Down In Submission Now. I Have Become An Attack Dog Too.