What Is A Writer Of Fiction But

A Spider Brings Good Luck Before Midnight And Bad Luck After.

Sheep Are Not The Docile, Pleasant Creatures Of The Pastoral Idyll. Any Countryman Will Tell You That. They Are Sly, Occasionally Vicious, Pathologically Stupid. The Lenient Shepherd May Find His Flock Unruly, Definant. I Cannot Afford To Be Lenient.

In My Dreams I Gorge On Chocolates, I Roll In Chocolates, And Their Texture Is Not Brittle But Soft As Flesh, Like A Thousand Mouths On My Body, Devouring Me In Fluttering Small Bites. To Die Beneath Their Tender Gluttony Seems The Culmination Of Every Temptation I Have Ever Known.

It Isn't Just A Village. The Houses Aren't Just Places To Live. Everything Belongs To Everybody. Everyone Belongs To Everyone Else. Even A Single Person Can Make A Difference.

Some Things Can Be Both Real And Imaginary At The Same Time, . . . Some Lies Can Be True, . . . Broken Faith May Be Restored.