Writing Comes From Reading, And Reading Is

There Was Some Open Space Between What He Knew And What He Tried To Believe, But Nothing Could Be Done About It, And If You Can't Fix It You've Got To Stand It.

If Life Was An Arc Of Light That Began In Darkness, Ended In Darkness, The First Part Of His Life Had Happened In Ordinary Glare. Here It Was As Though He Had Found A Polarized Lens That Deepened And Intensified All Seen Through It.

... There Are Four Women In Every Man’s Heart. The Maid In The Meadow, The Demon Lover, The Stouthearted Woman, The Tall And Quiet Woman.

Their Silence Comfortable. Something Unfolding. But What? Not Love, Which Wrenched And Wounded. Not Love, Which Came Only Once.

It Is My Feeling That A Story Is Not Finished Until It Is Read, And That The Reader Finishes It Through His Or Her Life Experience, Prejudices, Worldview And Thoughts.