I Think The Darker Aspect Of My

I Was The One Who Did Come Through That Door. You Were The One She Was Waiting For.

I've Never Written Nearly As Much About Place As People Seem To Think I Do. I Just Write About Class.

The Line Of Gray Along The Horizon Is Brighter Now, And With The Coming Light I Feel A Certainty: That There Is, Despite Our Wild Imaginings, Only One Life. The Ghostly Others, No Matter How Real They Seem, No Matter How Badly We Need Them, Are Phantoms. The One Life We're Left With Is Sufficient To Fill And Refill Our Imperfect Hearts With Joy, And Then To Shatter Them. And It Never, Ever Lets Up.

...aware, As Always, That The Truth Isn't Much Of Substitute For A Good Answer.

I Looked Back At Some Of My Earlier Published Stories With Genuine Horror And Remorse. I Got Thinking, How Many Extant Copies Might There Be, Who Owns Them, And Do They Keep Their Doors Locked?