I dreamed I was a single moment in a single day. A note struck and vanished. A sounding. A reckoning. Gone.

Books and doors are the same thing. You open them, and you go through into another world.

Reading is where the wild things are.

Somewhere between fear and sex passion is.

This is where the story starts, in this threadbare room. The walls are exploding. The windows have turned into telescopes. Moon and stars are magnified in this room. The sun hangs over the mantelpiece. I stretch out my hand and reach the corners of the world. The world is bundled up in this room. Beyond the door, where the river is, where the roads are, we shall be. We can take the world with us when we go and sling the sun under your arm. Hurry now, it's getting late. I don't know if this is a happy ending but here we are let loose in open fields.

What should I do about the wild and the tame? The wild heart that wants to be free, and the tame heart that wants to come home.

In the heat of her hands I thought, This is the campfire that mocks the sun.