Photography Is All About Secrets... The Secrets

He Fished In His Pocket For His Keys And Instead Pulled Out The Last Geode, Gray And Smooth, Earth-shaped. He Held It, Warming In His Palm, Thinking Of All Mysteries The World Contained: Layers Of Stone, Concealed Beneath The Flesh Of Earth And Grass; These Dull Rocks, With Their Glimmering Hidden Hearts.

So Something Had Begun, And Now She Could Not Stop It. Twin Threads Ran Through Her: Fear And Excitement. She Could Leave This Place Today. She Could Start A New Life Somewhere Else.

You Can't Spend The Rest Of Your Life Tiptoeing Around To Try And Avert Disaster. It Won't Work. You'll Just End Up Missing The Life You Have.

The Lake Of Dreams Grew Gradually, Over Many Years, Elements And Ideas Accruing Until They Gained Enough Critical Mass To Become A Novel.

Then She Had Been A Fiancee, A Young Wife, And A Mother, And She Had Discovered That These Words Were Far Too Small Ever To Contain The Experience.