You Might Not Be The First Person

Everyone Can Lie, Young Roger, Given Cause Enough. Even Me. It's Only That It's Harder For Those Of Us Who Live In Glass Faces; We Have To Think Up Our Lies Ahead Of Time.

I Wept Bitterly, Surrendering Momentarily To My Fear And Heartbroken Confusion, But Slowly I Began To Quiet A Bit, As Jamie Stroked My Neck And Back, Offering Me The Comfort Of His Broad, Warm Chest. My Sobs Lessened And I Began To Calm Myself, Leaning Tiredly Into The Curve Of His Shoulder. No Wonder He Was So Good With Horses, I Thought Blearily, Feeling His Fingers Rubbing Gently Behind My Ears, Listening To The Soothing, Incomprehensible Speech. If I Were A Horse, I'd Let Him Ride Me Anywhere.

There Was A Feeling, Not Sudden, But Complete, As Though I Had Been Given A Small Object To Hold Unseen In My Hands. Precious As Opal, Smooth As Jade, Weighty As A River Stone, More Fragile Than A Bird's Egg. Infinitely Still, Live As The Root Of Creation. Not A Gift, But A Trust. Fiercely To Cherish, Softly To Guard. The Words Spoke Themselves And Disappeared Into The Groined Shadows Of The Roof.

Men Would Eat Horse Droppings, If Ye Served Them Wi' Butter.

But A Man Is Not Forgotten, As Long As There Are Two People Left Under The Sky. One, To Tell The Story; The Other, To Hear It.