I Am Not Just What I Remember.

I Like Playing Around With The Words; I Love It When I Feel Like I've Picked The Exact Right Word To Describe Whatever It Is I'm Trying To Describe

"don't Let Go!" He Orders. Harper's Hand Is Dry And Soothing, While Mine Is Sweaty With Fear. We've Never Held Hands Before. I Think About What It Means In The Village When Boys And Girls Only A Few Years Older Then Harper And Me Wander Around With Their Hands Clasped Together. They're Always Peering Dreamily Into Each Other's Eyes, Sneaking Sky Kisses...and Soon After, There's A Wedding.

Amazing, Yetta Thought. Back Home I Couldn't Have Chosen My Own Husband. And Here I'm Thinking About Choosing Presidents, Governors, Mayors, Laws.

I Like The Fact That Kids Are Willing To Be Imaginative And Go Along With Me When I'm Telling Strange Tales.

I Wish, Peevishly, That He Didn't Know Anything About How Soldiers Sleep, How They Protect Their Fellow Soldiers. It Would Be Nicer If I Could Share The Cloaks Warmth With Him, If We Could Lie With Our Faces Together, Whispering Into The Night.