Memory Is The Way We Keep Telling

I Would Really Hope This Would Make People See The Short Story As An Important Art, Not Just Something You Played Around With Until You Got A Novel.

Always Remember That When A Man Goes Out Of The Room, He Leaves Everything In It Behind. When A Woman Goes Out She Carries Everything That Happened In The Room Along With Her.

Things Have Changed, Ofcourse. There Are Counsellors At The Ready. Kindness And Understanding. Life Is Harder For Some, We're Told. Not Their Fault, Even If The Blows Are Purely Imgainery. Felt Just As Keenly By The Recipient, Or The Non Recipient, As The Case May Be. But Good Use Can Be Made Of Everything, If You Are Willing.

I Sit Watching The Brown Oceanic Waves Of Dry Country Rising Into The Foothills And I Weep Monotonously, Seasickly. Life Is Not Like The Dim Ironic Stories I Like To Read, It Is Like A Daytime Serial On Television. The Banality Will Make You Weep As Much As Anything Else.

She Keeps On Hoping From A Word From Penelope, But Not In Any Strenuous Way. She Hopes As People Who Know Better Hope For Undeserved Blessings, Spontaneous Remissions, Things Of That Sort.