Oh, I Know That. You Know Me,

Last Year, When Zora Was A Freshman, Sophomores Had Seemed Altogether A Different Kind Of Human: So Very Definite In Their Tastes And Opinions, In Ther Loves And Ideas. Zora Woke Up This Morning Hopeful That A Transformation Of This Kind Might Have Visited Her In The Night, But, Finding It Hadn't, She Did What Girls Generally Do When They Don't Feel The Part: She Dressed It Instead.

The Future's Another Country, Man... And I Still Ain't Got A Passport.

- You Look Fine. - Right. I Look Fine. Except I Don't, Said Zora, Tugging Sadly At Her Man's Nightshirt. This Was Why Kiki Had Dreaded Having Girls: She Knew She Wouldn't Be Able To Protect Them From Self-disgust.

All Novels Attempt To Cut Neural Routes Through The Brain, To Convince Us That Down This Road The True Future Of The Novel Lies.

Today, Writing Seems To Me Like An Incredible Luxury, Almost A Perversity, Something Which Hardly Exists In The World Anymore, Where You Get To See The Fruits Of Your Actions In A Daily Way.