I Like People Too Much Or Not

It Won't Happen Yet, Ellen Mused, Mashing Cooked Carrots For Jill's Lunch. Breakups Seldom Do. It Will Unfold Slowly, One Little Tell-tale Symptom After Another Like Some Awful, Hellish Flower.

After All, We Are Nothing More Or Less Than We Choose To Reveal.

I Can't Be Satisfied With The Colossal Job Of Merely Living.

I Get Into A Rut, Unable To Yank My Mind Out Of It.

The Silence Drew Off, Baring The Pebbles And Shells And All The Tatty Wreckage Of My Life.