You Know, One Of The Tragedies Of

Develop Craftsmanship Through Years Of Wide Reading.

It's Easier To Die If Others Around You Are Dying.

And They Shook Hands, Hit Each Other On The Shoulder, Then There Was Forty Feet Of Distance Between Them And Nothing To Do But Drive Away In Opposite Directions. Within A Mile Ennis Felt Like Someone Was Pulling His Guts Out Hand Over Hand A Yard At A Time. He Stopped At The Side Of The Road And, In The Whirling New Snow, Tried To Puke But Nothing Came Up. He Felt About As Bad As He Ever Had And It Took A Long Time For The Feeling To Wear Off.

If A Piece Of Knotted String Can Unleash The Wind, And If A Drowned Man Can Awaken, Then I Believe A Broken Man Can Heal.

Their Silence Comfortable. Something Unfolding. But What? Not Love, Which Wrenched And Wounded. Not Love, Which Came Only Once.