And Like My Dad Always Said, The

Never Would Forever, With All Its Meanings, Be So Clear And Distinct As In The True, Guaranteed End Of The World.

One Open, One Closed. It Was No Wonder That The First Image That Came To Mind When I Thought Of Either Of My Sisters Was A Door. With Kirsten, It Was The Front One To Our House, Through Which She Was Always Coming In Or Out, Usually In Mid-sentence, A Gaggle Of Friends Trailing Behind Her. Whitney’s Was The One To Her Bedroom, Which She Preferred To Keep Shut Between Her And The Rest Of Us, Always.

That Was The Thing About Being Alone, In Theory Or In Principle. Whatever Happened - Good, Bad, Or Anywhere In Between - It Was Always, If Nothing Else, All Your Own.

I Think When You're A Beginning Author With Any Publishing Company, There's Only So Much They Can Put Behind You.

This Was Our Common Ground, The Secret We Shared But Never Spoke Aloud.