I am like a room where things once happened and now nothing does, except the pollen of the weeds that grow up inside the window, blowing in as dust across the floor.

“In Hope.”

“An unearned income encourages self-pity in those already prone to it.”

“a few brown leaves are stuck to the outside of the glass like leather tongues.”

“Is anything wrong, dear? the old joke went.No, why?You moved.Just don't move.”