She let out a laugh, and then she put her hand over her mouth, like she was angry at herself for forgetting her sadness.

We could imagine all sorts of universes unlike this one, but this is the one that happened.

If we communicated with something like music, we would never be misunderstood, because there is nothing in music to understand.

My dream went all the way back to the beginning. The rain rose into the clouds, and the animals descended the ramp.

Find a printer paper and imagine a full-grown bird shaped something like a football with legs standing on it. Imagine 33,000 of these rectangles in a grid. (Broilers are never in cages, and never on multiple levels.) Now enclose the grid with windowless walls and put a ceiling on top. Run in automated (drug-laced) feed, water, heating, and ventilation systems. This is a farm.

If there is no love in the world, we will make a new world, and we will give it walls, and we will furnish it with soft red interiors, from the inside out, and give it a knocker that resonates like a diamond falling to a jeweller's felt so that we should never hear it. Love me, because love doesn't exist, and I have tried everything that does.

It is my great hope that our paths, however long and winding, will cross again.