He Was One Of Those Rare Men

Red Hook Road Made Me Happy, And Happy To Be Alive. It Took Me Out Of My Home On The Coast Of South Carolina, Placed Me In The Town Along Red Hook Road, And Changed Me The Way Good Books Always Do.

I Was Trying To Unravel The Complicated Trigonometry Of The Radical Thought That Silence Could Make Up The Greatest Lie Ever Told.

A Story Is A Living Thing, It Moves And Shifts.

Rape Is A Crime Against Sleep And Memory; It's Afterimage Imprints Itself Like An Irreversible Negative From The Camera Obscura Of Dreams.

Walking The Streets Of Charleston In The Late Afternoons Of August Was Like Walking Through Gauze Or Inhaling Damaged Silk.