Too Many Locks, Not Enough Keys.

I'm Sorry," I Heard Him Say Again. Then, Out Of The Corner Of My Eye, I Saw A Sudden Blur Of Movement As He Slid Out Of His Seat, Left Some Bills For The Breakfast He Wouldn't Eat, And Walked Away. And As He Did, I Thought Again Of Those Mornings In The Hallway At School, Way Back In Ninth Grade. Everything Had Started In Such Sharp Detail, Each Aspect Pronounced And Clear. Obviously, Endings Were Different. Harder To See, Full Of Shapes That Could Be One Thing Or Another, With All The Things That You Were Once So Sure Of Suddenly Not Familiar, If They Were Even Recognizable At All.

It's Never Long Distance Between Friends.

I Was Worn Out, Broken: He Had Taken Almost Everything. But He'd Been All I'd Had, All This Time. And When The Police Led Him Away, I Pulled Out Of The Hands Of All These Loved One, Sobbing, Screaming, Everything Hurting, To Try And Make Him Stay.

Donneven, Bettaquit And Mmmhmmmm

"i Don't Know," I Said. "what Else Did You Do For Your First Eighteen Years?" "like I Said," He Said As I Unlocked The Car, "i'm Not So Sure That You Should Go By My Example." "why Not?" "because I Have My Regrets," He Said. "also, I'm A Guy. And Guys Do Different Stuff." "like Ride Bikes?" I Said. "no," He Replied. "like Have Food Fights. And Break Stuff. And Set Off Firecrackers On People's Front Porches. And..." "girls Can't Set Off Firecrackers On People's Front Porches?" "they Can," He Said... "but They're Smart Enough Not To. That's The Difference."