I Crossed The Street To Walk In

This Person Had Arrived, He Had Illuminated Her, He Had Ensorcelled Her With Notions Of Miracle And Beauty, He Had Both Understood And Misunderstood Her, He Had Married Her, He Had Broken Her Heart, He Had Looked Upon Her With Those Sad And Hopeless Eyes, He Had Accepted His Banishment, And Now He Was Gone. What A Stark And Stunning Thing Was Life- That Such A Cataclysm Can Enter And Depart So Quickly, And Leave Such Wreckage Behind!

Nobody Until Very Recently Would Have Thought That Their Husband Was Supposed To Be Their Best Friend, Confidante, Intellectual Soul Mate, Co-parent, Inspiration.

You Write Fiction, You're Writing Memoir, And When You're Writing Memoir, You're Writing Fiction.

As I Got Older, I Discovered That Nothing Within Me Cried Out For A Baby. My Womb Did Not Seem To Have Come Equipped With That Famously Ticking Clock. Unlike So Many Of My Friends, I Did Not Ache With Longing Whenever I Saw An Infant. (though I Did Ache With Longing, It Is True, Whenever I Saw A Good Used-book Shop)

Every Word Was A Singing Sparrow, A Magic Trick, A Truffle For Me. The Words Made Me Laugh In Delight.