The Future Rose Up Ahead Of Her,

A Moment Passed, Perhaps Half A Second When Their Faces Said What They Felt, And Then Emma Was Smiling, Laughing, Her Arms Around His Neck.

Sometimes, When It Is Going Badly, She Wonders If What She Believes To Be A Love Of The Written Word Is Really Just A Fetish For Stationary.

…surprised All Over Again At How Very Comforting Very Bad Food Can Be.

…and You Smile Back And Try Not To Think About The Fact That You Have Nothing, Absolutely Nothing, To Say To Each Other.

Letters, Like Compilation Tapes, Were Really Vehicles For Unexpressed Emotions And She Was Clearly Putting Far Too Much Time And Energy Into Them.