It’s Not My Party But I’ll Cry If I Want To, Part 4
My Those Quiet Eyes Become You “It’s like the smell of burned toast. You made the toast. You looked forward to it. You even enjoyed making it, but it burned. What were you doing? Was it your fault? It...
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“There is so much to be learned about someone from the little they remember and label ‘the past.’” -Seven Types of Ambiguity I’m sitting in the lounge at work, reading a magazine about the big...
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“You are a trick question.” –Closer Today is The Writer’s birthday. He’s turning thirty, and I’ve been dying for this day to arrive–not only to see how someone with his own specialized brand of...
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