I Am A Mass Of Contradictions.

Stuart Must Have Sensed My Despair From The Way I Began Lightly Banging My Forehead On The Table.

It Rang And It Rand And It Rang. I Looked At The Screen One Last Time, Then At Stuart, And Then I Reached My Arm Back And Threw The Phone As Hard As I Could (sadly, Not That Far), And It Vanished Into The Snow. The Eight-year-olds, Who Were Truly Fascinated With Our Every Move At This Point, Chased After It. 'lost It,' I Said. 'whoops.

I Have No Phobias. Phobias Are Irrational. My Fears Are Rational And Carefully Cultivated, Like Roses.

I Looked At The Stained-glass Image Of The Lamb In The Window Above Me, But That Only Reminded Me That Lambs Are Famous For Being Led To Slaughter, Or Sometimes Hanging Out With Lions In Ill-advised Relationships.

It's Always Easier To Say Good-bye When You Know It's Just A Prelude To Hello.