Regret, already sogging me down, burst its dam. It seeped into my legs, it pooled in my heart.

It was amazing how it worked: the tiniest bit of truth made credible the greatest lies.

I studied English literature in the honors program, which means that you had to take courses in various centuries. You had to start with Old English, Middle English, and work your way toward the modern. I figured if I did that it would force me to read some of the things I might not read on my own.

The world, a tired performer, offers us another half-assed season.

But what humans forget, cells remember. The body, that elephant

She wanted out of the decorating scheme.

-Who are you, anyway? -Just someone who knows, from personal experience, how attractive it can be to think you can save somebody else by loving them.