Through my curtains I can see a big yellow moon. I’m thinking of all the people in the world who will be looking at that same moon. I wonder how many of them haven’t got any eyebrows?

Here is another marvy glimpse into the gothic basement that I call my mind.

A nod is as good as a wink to a blind badger.

My cousin Georgia says that boys are like gazelles. She says the get alarmed when they get close to girls. And they have to leap off into the woods like gazelles in trousers. Or have I just made that up?

He had everything a dream boy should have. Back, front, sides, Everything. A head.

This soft grass suggests 'softness' to me, but also at the same time 'lying-down-ness'.

How do you make yourself not like someone?