And although Margarita lived in a world that predated Technicolor, she always dreamed of the boy in rich pastels.

I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds– but I think of you always in those intervals.

Missing you is worse than Pittsburgh.

There would be no sequel to the sadness

One day I will forgive you; until then there are scabs everywhere that you have touched me.

And although Margarita lived in a world that predated Technicolor, she always dreamed of the boy in rich pastels.

Like all stories of creators who bring life from the dead, his story began with a struggling butcher, who chased a gray cat, caught it, took off its studded collar, and slit its throat.