Rewrite Formula: 2nd Draft = 1st Draft

For A Moment He Felt A Wild Hope: Perhaps This Really Was A Nightmare. Perhaps He Would Awake In His Own Bed, Bathed In Sweat, Shaking, Maybe Even Crying . . . But Alive. Safe. Then He Pushed The Thought Away. Its Charm Was Deadly, Its Comfort Fatal.

Parenting Is The Greatest Of Hum-a-few-bars-and-i'll-fake-it Skills.

The Tears That Heal Are Also The Tears That Scald And Scourge.

Even At Eleven, He Had Observed That Things Turned Out Right A Ridiculous Amount Of The Time.

It Occured To Her That Pleasure, No Matter How Deep, Was A Ghostly, Ephemeral Thing. Love Might Make The World Go Round, But She Was Convinced It Ws The Cries Of The Badly Wounded Andf Deeply Afflicted Which Spun The Universe On The Great Glass Pole Of It's Axis.