Except for when I was very little and thought that being an "engineer" meant he drove a train. Then I imagined him in the seat of an engine car the color of coal, a string of shiny passenger cars trailing behind. One day my father laughed and corrected me. Everything snapped into focus. It's one of those unforgettable moments that happen as a child, when you discover that all along the world has been betraying you.

There was no one to call me to bed, no one to demand that the rhythms of my life operate in a duet.

That's what I do. Watch movies and read. Sometimes I even pretend to write, but I'm not fooling anyone. Oh, and I go to the mailbox.

It is impossible to distrust one's writing without awakening a deeper distrust in oneself.

I scowled at the world. And the world scowled back. We were locked in a stare of mutual disgust.

... as a rule of thumb, whenever there appears a plural, correct for a singular. Should I ever let slip a royal WE, put me out of my misery with a swift blow to the head.

Holding hands, for example, is a way to remember how it feels to say nothing together.