You Prefer Not To See

I Would Have Written You, Myself, If I Could Put Down In Words Everything I Want To Say To You. A Sea Of Ink Would Not Be Enough.' 'but You Built Me Dreams Instead.

You Look Like A Ghost," Bailey Says. He Can Think Of No Better Way To Describe It. "you Appear The Same Way To Me, So Which Of Us Is Real?

Memories Begin To Creep Forward From Hidden Corners Of Your Mind. Passing Disappointments. Lost Chances And Lost Causes. Heartbreaks And Pain And Desolate, Horrible Loneliness. Sorrows You Thought Long Forgotten Mingle With Still-fresh Wounds.

But You Built Me Dreams Instead.

At The Center, Where A Cuckoo Bird Would Live In A More Traditional Timepiece, Is The Juggler. Dressed In Harlequin Style With A Grey Mask, He Juggles Shiny Silver Balls That Correspond To Each Hour. As The Clock Chimes, Another Ball Joins The Rest Until At Midnight He Juggles Twelve Balls In A Complex Pattern. After Midnight The Clock Begins Once More To Fold In Upon Itself. The Face Lightens And The Clouds Return. The Number Of Juggled Balls Decreases Until The Juggler Himself Vanishes. By Noon It Is A Clock Again, And No Longer A Dream.