Memory is like a child walking along a seashore. You never can tell what small pebble it will pick up and store away among its treasured things.
- Pierce Harris
Friday, July 31, 2009
Some Days Are Just Like This One
But even so, every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drink, the very air I breathe, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o'clock in the morning.