Even In The Midst Of Love-making, Writers

Call On Literary Convention, And It Will Gladly Tell Your Story For You.

The Banker Rubs His Nose, Thinking Of His Cat Stalking Something On The Lawn.

Travelers Never Think That They Are The Foreigners.

Death Is Hacking Away At My Address Book And Party Lists.

Was There A Little Time Between The Invention Of Language And The Coming Of True And False?