I was sand, I was snow—written on, rewritten, smoothed over.

“For if the world treats you well, Sir, you come to believe you are deserving of…”

“This goes along with another belief of mine: that everyone else my age is an ad…”

“You're not my real parents, every child has thought. I'm not your real child. B…”

“In my dreams of this city I am always lost.”