You Do Right By Me, I'll Show

I Scan The Room. Catherine Is Writing Quickly, Her Light Brown Hair Falling Over Her Face. She Is Left-handed, And Because She Writes In Pencil Her Left Arm Is Silver From Wrist To Elbow.

It's As Though I've Been Sleepwalking And Suddenly Woken To Find Myself Here

My Platitudes Don't Hold Their Interest And I Can Hardly Blame Them For That. My Real Stories Are All Out Of Date. So What If I Can Speak Firsthand About The Spanish Flu, The Advent Of The Automobile, World Wars, Cold Wars, Guerrilla Wars, And Sputnik — That's All Ancient History Now. But What Else Do I Have To Offer? Nothing Happens To Me Anymore. That's The Reality Of Getting Old, And I Guess That's Really The Crux Of The Matter. I'm Not Ready To Be Old Yet.

...poking A Lump Of Red Jello That Jiggles Outrageously, Like A Breast I Once Knew.

Gorillas Are In Danger Of Being Wiped Out By The Ebola Virus. I Feel Like We Have Limited Time To Get To Know Them And Understand Them And They're Going To Disappear - That's Terrifically Sad. Wouldn't It Be Great If We Could Stop That?