Just like they took away the Polaroid picture, they're gonna take away anything that means something.

Winter weather is always colder when you're not in town.

I've closed my eyes and tried to think about sunshine,

but, child, this wind and rain can certainly bring me down!

Come out of the woods, and say you'll always be mine.

Five Months Left

He read it in her fingers,

the way she clutched at him and smiled in her sleep.

She felt it in the tangle of their arms and legs;

sleep could not tear them from each other.

He saw it in her eyes,

shining with morning’s surprise and dimming with evening’s sleepy contentment.

She tasted it in his kisses,

the wild, consuming ones and the soft, loving ones.

He heard it in her voice,

in her untamed, happy laughter and her whispers of eternal love.

They saw it in each other’s souls,

the promises of life, love, and order being completely within their grasp.

And they grasped it tightly, and never let it go.

Digital Barbarism, Mark Helprin

August 2028, California

...You instruct the secretary to allow your wife's apparition to override all others. She is at a beach in Alaska (it is a bit warmer now), where you will shortly join her. Recently, you and she have quarreled. In virtual sex, in which you both wear corneal lenses that create a perfect illusion of whomever you might want, she discovered that you were entertaining not a commercial prostitutional apparition, but an old girlfriend. Hence her early departure for the Aleutians...

August 1908, Lake Como, Italy

...Your shoes are entirely of leather, your clothes cotton, silk, linen, and wool. You and your wife hired a rowboat and went to a distant out-cropping of granite and pine. No one could be seen, so you stripped down to the cotton and swam in the cold fresh water. Her frock clung to her in a way that awoke in you extremely strong sexual desire (for someone your age), and though you made no mention of it on the bright rock ledge above the lake, later that night your memory of her rising from sparkling water into sparkling sunlight made you lively in a way that was much appreciated...

Ring of Time

I stalked them, driving slowly behind his rusty Ford pick-up.

They were unaware, half-asleep, and weary with the prospect of another day.

He moved as though to put his arm around her, then paused, and ran his fingers through his hair.

She turned her head, and glanced at me, and I looked away.

Only when I passed their car did I see the plastic handle marking the presence of a third.

They pulled into the driveway of his workplace--a building full of gray cubicles--where he hopefully kissed her goodbye before resigning himself to another day, tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.

I hope they're happy.

It's getting late, but I don't mind...

He was there, standing outside of the Starbucks where I'd told him to meet me. His eyes searched the parking lot.

Parking haphazardly, I ran towards him, catching him in an embrace that nearly propelled him backwards.

We entered the coffee shop to buy a large cup of brew, holding hands and giggling like we'd just discovered love for the first time. "Marry me," he whispered, his breath tickling my ear, and I laughed and agreed for the millionth time.

I love him, and I always always will.

...the dead clacks of a typewriter are like the poems of e.e. cummings...

If I can move out of this house in five months and a couple of weeks,

I will willingly work six days a week for long and tedious hours.

I feel like I'm dying.

I feel like I'm being born.

The morning hours are the most difficult to bear.

It's good to go to work, and face distraction, friendly or foe-worthy.

I'm realizing I can't possibly write with Sallie Ford and the Sound Outside in the background.

I can't wait to have a place to live with Matthew. A place to come home to. To fall onto the couch, or onto the bed, or onto the floor. Also, I look forward to being able to find the things I own. I look forward to sharing such a large bed (queen-sized!) with him. It's an exciting thought to think that we shall have no one to answer to except for each other. It's a free world, at least right now.

It's easy to be your own worst master. So many people feel locked into the lifestyle they created for themselves. You choose your job, you choose your spouse, you choose your routines. There ought to be a lot less complaining.