He Didn't Remember, He Didn't Worry, He

When Mats Came In The Evenings, They Would Drink Tea In The Kitchen While Reading Their Books And Talking About Them. If Katri Came In, They Were Quiet And Waited For Her To Leave. The Back Door Would Close, And Katri Would Have Gone. “does Your Sister Read Our Books?” Anna Wanted To Know. “no. She Reads Literature.

...now And Then A Giggling Trail Of Mermaids Appeared In Our Wake. We Fed Them Oatmeal.

Smell Is Important. It Reminds A Person Of All The Things He's Been Through; It Is A Sheath Of Memories And Security.

Storms Probably Exist Only Because After Them We Can Have A Sunrise.

Now Everything Was Changed. She Walked About With Cautious, Anxious Steps, Staring Constantly At The Ground, On The Lookout For Things That Crept And Crawled. Bushes Were Dangerous, And So Were Sea Grass And Rain Water. There Were Little Animals Everywhere. They Could Turn Up Between The Covers Of A Book, Flattened And Dead, For The Fact Is That Creeping Animals, Tattered Animals, And Dead Animals Are With Us All Our Lives, From Beginning To End. Grandmother Tried To Discuss This With Her, To No Avail. Irrational Terror Is So Hard To Deal With.