We Lose Weeks Like Buttons, Like Pencils.

Better To Be At The Bottom Of A Ladder You Want To Climb Than In The Middle Of Some Ladder You Don’t, Right?

How Had This Happened? Everyone In The World Knew More Than Us, About Everything, And This I Hated Then Found Hugely Comforting.

For Years I Feared The Opening Of Every Elevator, Half-convinced That From The Opened Doors Would Come A Bullet, For Me, Shot By A Man In A Tan Trenchcoat. I Have No Idea Why I Feared This, Expected It To Happen. I Even Knew How I Would React To This Bullet Coming From The Elevator Door, What Word I Would Say. That Word Was: Finally.

He Remained, Weeks After Awakening, In That Period Of Early-morning Consciousness That Allows Easy Re-entry To Dreaming. His Limbs Still Tingled With The Residue Of Sleep, And Most Days He Wanted Badly To Allow It To Overtake Him Again.

Be Strong, Be Brave, Be True. Endure.