The Person We Know At First, She

It Is Not Fashionable Anymore, I Suppose, To Have A Regard For One's Mother In The Way My Brother And I Had Then, In The Mid-1950s, When The Noise Outside The Window Was Mostly Wind And Sea Chime.

We Seldom Know What We're Hearing When We Hear Something For The First Time, But One Thing Is Certain: We Hear It As We Will Never Hear It Again. We Return To The Moment To Experience It, I Suppose, But We Can Never Really Find It, Only Its Memory, The Faintest Imprint Of What Really Was, What It Meant.

I Write About What I Know; And I Write About Things That Are New To Me, And That I Didn't Know Before.

I'm A Complete And Utter Fiction. Then Again, We All Are.

Even If People Laughed At The Notion Of Goodness, If They Found It Sentimental, Or Nostalgic, It Didn't Matter -- It Was None Of Those Things, He Said, And It Had To Be Fought For.