My thoughts are starts I can't fathom into constellations.

It always happened like this: he would look and look for the keys to Satan’s Hearse and then finally he’d just give up and say, “Fine. I’ll take the fugging bus,” and on his way out the door, he’d see the keys. Keys show up when you reconcile yourself to the bus; Katherines appear when you start to disbelieve the world contains another Katherine; and, sure enough, the Eureka moment arrived just as he began to accept it would never come.

In the ensuing silence, I have time to contemplate the word cute— how dismissive it is, how it’s the equivalent of calling someone little, how it makes a person into a baby, how the word is a neon sign burning through the dark reading, “Feel Bad About Yourself.

I've gotten really hot since you went blind.

But I was not in the band, because I suffer from the kind of tone deafness that is generally associated with actual deafness

You get all these friends just when you don’t need friends anymore.

The rules of capitalization are so unfair to words in the middle of a sentence.