Take A Person’s Memories, And

I Can't Tell Him I Need Him. I Can't Need Him, Period -- Or Really, We Can't Need Each Other, Because Who Knows How Long Either Of Us Will Last In This War?

It Would Be Nice If Life Worked This Way, Stripping The Dirt From Our Lives And Sending Us Back Out Into The World Clean. But Some Dirt Is Destined To Lingered.

Color Fills Her Cheeks, And I Think It Again: That Johanna Reyes Might Still Be Beautiful. Except Now I Think That She Isn't Just Beautiful In Spite Of The Scar, She's Somehow Beautiful With It, Like Lynn With Her Buzzed Hair, Like Tobias With The Memories Of His Father's Cruelty That He Wears Like Armor, Like My Mother In Her Plain Gray Clothing.

I Smirk As Peter Misses Again. I Can't Help Myself. "hey, Peter," I Say, " Remember What A Target Is?

I Also Don't Believe That Whatever Come After Life Depends On My Correctly Reciting A List Of My Transgressions-that Sounds Too Much Like An Erudite Afterlife To Me, All Accuracy And No Feeling.