Outside, the September air was enticingly fragrant, yellow with pollen and rich, lemony sunlight.

You can be betrayed in your sleep. The whole world can tilt while you're dreaming of butterflies.

It was as though I had one map inside my head and it led to the man who was waiting for me. Someone who was alone - maybe even more alone - than I was.

There was the blue sky above her and all those many roses, the ones that gave off the scent of cloves in the rain and the ones that left a trace of lemon on your fingers, the ones that were the color of blood, and those that were as white as clouds. Each one was sweeter than the next and as red as gemstones.

That's why there are ten gates to pass through before you reach the garden. If life were easy there would be one gate. There would be no gates at all.

In losing a friend, she is reminded of all she has lost and all she stands to lose again. There is nothing to be done to make it any easier. We all grieve alone.

I think growing up is difficult and it's a process that I'm always interested in, with kids and adults, they are often on two different universes.