We Are Only An Instant, That's True.

Outside, The September Air Was Enticingly Fragrant, Yellow With Pollen And Rich, Lemony Sunlight.

I Don't Think I Make Much Of A Distinction Between The 'real' And The 'fantastic.' They Both Seem To Be Threads In The Same Cloth As Far As I'm Concerned.

I Heard A Sigh, As Though The Books Were Breathing. I Felt That This Was Where I Belonged. This Was Where I Lived.

In Losing A Friend, She Is Reminded Of All She Has Lost And All She Stands To Lose Again. There Is Nothing To Be Done To Make It Any Easier. We All Grieve Alone.

If We Had Paid Attention, We Would Have Understood There Are Some Things In This World You Cannot Outrun.