Hundreds of butterflies flitted in and out of sight like short-lived punctuation marks in a stream of consciousness without beginning or end.

The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts.

Of course you keep telling yourself there's something to be learned from everything, and growing old shouldn't be that hard. That's the general drift.

At times like this, adults need a drink

I'm a writer, not a professional runner. It's fun and it helps me write. I need powerful concentration.

There weren't any curtains in the windows, and the books that didn't fit into the bookshelf lay piled on the floor like a bunch of intellectual refugees.

This place is too calm, too natural--too complete. I don't deserve it. At least not yet.