But It Was Smell That Carried Memory.

This Body Is Breaking Down, But I Am Not.

I Knew Her Hair And Her Coloring And Her Shapes Would Be Different Next Time, But The Way She Wore Her Body Would Keep On.

I Was Supposed To Write A Romantic Comedy, But My Characters Broke Up.

All The Things She Planned To Feel, The Way She Planned To Look And Seem, The Appropriate Things She Planned To Say. None Of Them Came To Pass.

He No Longer Represented Someday A Possibility. He Represented A Road Not Taken A Road That Suddenly Shot So Far Into The Distance She Couldn’t See It Anymore.