I Point At A Window

That Dot Covers All The Places We've Ever Been. You Could Cut That Piece Of Land Out Of The Ground And Sing It Into This Ocean And No One Would Even Notice. I Feel That Fear Again, The Fear Of My Own Size. 'right. So?' 'so? So Everything I've Ever Worried About Or Said Or Done, How Can It Possibly Matter?' He Shakes His Head. 'it Doesn't.' 'of Course It Does,' I Say, 'all That Land Is Filled With People, Every One Of Them Different, And The Things They Do To Each Other Matter.

You Sadistic Pansycake.

He Moves His Thumb In A Slow Circle Over The Back Of My Hand. It Is Meant To Comfort Me, But It Frustrates Me Instead. I Need To Talk To Him. I Need To Look At Him.

They Died For Me,” I Say. That Feels Important

You Won," Four Mutters. "stop." I Wipe The Sweat From My Forehead. He Stares At Me. His Eyes Are Too Wide; They Look Alarmed.