Never Trust Anyone Who Has Not Brought

Here We Are At The Bottom, Almost Empty. It's Like Confetti, These Dried Remnants You Find In The Street For A Party No One Invited You To. But They Used To Be, I Can Admit, Part Of Something Beautiful.

They Were Almond Cookies, Although They Could Have Been Made Of Spinach And Shoes For All I Cared. I Ate Eleven Of Them, Right In A Row. It Is Rude To Take The Last Cookie.

The Right Boys I Always Toss And The Wrong Ones I Keep On Top Of Me Like Paperweights.

I Was Not A Particularly Brave Child, I Think, Because I Had A Narrative Mind, Because My Mind Automatically Went To Any Terrible Thing That Could Happen.

For Beatrice - You Will Always Be In My Mind, In My Heart And In Your Grave.