A Pause While My Mother Made High-pitched

It Was Almost Funny. Life Seemed Downright Accidental In Its Brevity, And Death A Punch Line To A Lousy Joke.

Do You Ever Sing In The Car?" "generally Not. But I Am Driving A Police Car." "i Think People Would Like A Singing Policeman. Makes Life Seem More Like A Musical. Like Foot-tastic." "you Can Talk For A Long Time About Nothing." "i Certainly Can, You Charming Man!

The Locker At The End Of Her Bed Had No Lock, And One Of The Hinges Was Busted. She Opened It Up. There Was A Thing In It. The Thing Might Have Been A Sandwich At Some Point, Or An Animal, Or A Human Hand...but What It Was Now Was Fuzzy And Putrid. A Minute Later, Ginny Was Down The Stairs, Out The Door, And Gone.

My Final Word: Don't Follow Your Dreams . . . Chase Them. With A Stick, Or A Shovel, Or Whatever You Have Handy. Get That [bleep]ing Dream!

Writing Is One Of The Few Careers For Which You Essentially Train Yourself, The Other Two Major Ones Being Juggling And Pickpocketing.