The bittersweetness of uncertainty: To win or to lose.
I’m just another stupid human.
Even now, I wonder how much of my life is convinced.
The orange flames waved at the crowd as paper and print dissolved inside them. Burning words were torn from their sentences.
The last time I saw her was red. The sky was like soup, boiling and stirring. In some places, it was burned. There were black crumbs, and pepper, streaked across the redness.
The Gunman is useless. I know it. He knows it. The whole bank knows it.
It’s hard to not like a man who not only notices the colors, but speaks them.
Do we spend most of our days trying to remember or to forget? Do we spend most of our time running towards or away from our lives?
If a guy like you can stand up and do what you did, then maybe everyone can. Maybe everyone can live beyond what they’re capable of.
It would then be brought abruptly to an end, for the brightness had shown suffering the way.
Mistakes, mistakes, it’s all I seem capable of at times.
Rosa Hubermann was sitting on the edge of the bed with her husband’s accordion tied to her chest. Her fingers hovered above the keys. She did not move. She didn’t ever appear to be breathing.
Stealing it, in a sick kind of sense, was like earning it.
We’re silent now, both waiting, till I remind myself that I’m the older one and should therefore initiate conversation. But I don’t. I don’t want to waste this girl with idle chitchat. She’s beautiful.
When finally she finished and stood herself up, he put his arm around her, best-buddy style, and they walked on. There was no request for a kiss. Nothing like that. You can love Rudy for that, if you like.
She rubbed her eyes, and after a long study of his face, she spoke “Is it really you?” Is it from your cheek, she thought, that I took the seed? The man nodded. His heart wobbled and he held tighter to the branches. It is.
Why can’t the world hear? I ask myself. Within a few moments I ask it many times. Because it doesn’t care, I finally answer, and I know I’m right. It’s like I’ve been chosen. But chosen for what? I ask.
She was saying goodbye and she didn’t even know it.
There were stars. They burned my eyes.
So I saw that there was only me. There was only me who could worry about what was happening here, inside these walls of my life. Other people had their own worlds to worry about, and in the end, they had to fend for themselves, just like us.