What Could Be Safer Than The Bus

If Faces Were Different When Lit From Above Or Below -- What Was A Face? What Was Anything?

His Mind Was Crowded With Memories; Memories Of The Knowledge That Had Come To Them When They Closed In On The Struggling Pig, Knowledge That They Had Outwitted A Living Thing, Imposed Their Will Upon It, Taken Away Its Life Like A Long Satisfying Drink.

People Don't Help Much.

He Doesn't Mind If He Dies... Indeed, He Would Like To Die; But Yet He Fears To Fall. He Would Welcome A Long Sleep; But Not At The Price Of Falling To It.

My Yesterdays Walk With Me. They Keep Step, They Are Gray Faces That Peer Over My Shoulder.