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He would work through the night and sleep until lunch. There wasn't really much else to do. Make something, and die.

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He knew these last lines by heart and mouthed them now in the darkness. My reason for life. Not living, but life. That was the touch. And she was his ...more

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And though you think the world is at your feet, it can rise up and tread on you.

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The cost of oblivious daydreaming was always this moment of return, the realignment with what had been before and now seemed a little worse.

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This is how the entire course of a life can be changed: by doing nothing.

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He saw it for the first time: on the day he died he would be wearing unmatching socks, there would be unanswered e-mails, and in the hovel he called h...more