Sunday, November 9, 2008


How do we not have time to savor it? she said. There were gunshots outside; the sky seemed in a shade of brown. Whatever the fever he'd been suffering burned in the top of his head. He would have rolled in the street, hunger and hope.

1 comment:

Mary Miller said...

it makes me happy to come here and see new small dogs all the time. thanks for posting them.

how are you, btw? (stop me from saying, don't be a stranger). you didn't stop me.