Love Weaves Itself From Hundreds Of Threads.

You Were In Sweden?" Boomer Asked. "no," I Said. "the Trip Got Called Off At The Last Minute. Because Of Political The Unrest" "in Sweden?" Priya Seemed Skeptical. "yeah-isn't It Strange How The Times Isn't Covering It? Half The Country's On Strike Because Of That Thing The Crown Prince Said About Pippi Longstocking Which Means No Meatballs For Christmas, If You Know What I Mean." "that's So Sad!" Boomer Said.

I Have No Idea How He Knows When I Need Him. We Can Go Weeks Without Speaking, And Then, When My Blue Moods Threaten To Turn Black, He Will Show Up And Tell Me My Moods Are Azure Indigo Cerulean Cobalt Periwinkle And Suddenly The Blue Will Not Seem So Dark, More Like The Color Of A Noon-bright Sky. He Brings The Sun.

I Try To Convince Myself That It's The Alcohol Talking. But Alcohol Can't Talk. It Just Sits There. It Can't Even Get Itself Out Of The Bottle.

After Tiny Has Tried Ballerina Pose, Swing-batter-batter Pose, Pump-up-the-jam Pose, And Top-of-the-mountain-sound-of-music Pose In The Reflection Of The Bean, He Walks Us To A Bench Overlooking Lake Shore Drive.

It's One Thing To Fall In Love. It's Another To Feel Someone Else Fall In Love With You, And To Feel A Responsibility Toward That Love.