"when The Dead Are Done With The

No One On The Street Thought Anything Of The Downtown Girl Dressed In Black Who Had Paused In The Middle Of Midtown Foot Traffic. In Her Art Student Camouflage She Could Walk The Entire Length Of Manhattan And, If Not Blend In, Be Classified And Therefore Ignored.

Murder Had A Blood Red Door On The Other Side Of Which Was Everything Unimaginable To Everyone.

I Wanted To Be The Moron Of The Family, Because Morons Seemed To Have More Fun, More Freedom And More Personality.

All You Have To Do Is Desire It, And If You Desire It Enough And Understand Why -- Really Know -- It Will Come.

Hold Still," My Father Would Say, While I Held The Ship In The Bottle And He Burned Away The Strings He'd Raised The Mast With And Set The Clipper Ship Free On Its Blue Putty Sea. And I Would Wait For Him, Recognizing The Tension Of That Moment When The World In The Bottle Depended, Solely, On Me.