Things always seem to glide away. They come to you, stay a moment, then leave again.

A small fact: You are going to die....does this worry you?

It was one of those moments of perfect tiredness, of having conquered not only the work at hand, but the night who had blocked the way.

He watched them grow, until eventually, great forests of words had risen throughout Germany.... It was a nation of farmed thoughts.

He left Himmel Street wearing his hangover and a suit.

Or had she always loved him? It's likely. Restricted as she was from speaking, she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted him to drag her hand across and pull her over. It didn't matter where. Her mouth, her neck, her cheek. Her skin was empty for it, waiting.

Maybe one morning I’ll wake up and step outside of myself to look back at the old me lying dead among the sheets.