He had been in control, always. He had pulled the strings and I had danced. He had cut the strings and I had fallen - just as he must have known I would.

If I evaporated from this earth at this moment no one would really notice.

Watching the sea never ceased to ground me. It was unchangeable. It was constant. Whatever happened - whatever seasons came and went, whatever way the wind blew, whatever was going on in the world, whatever was going on in the lives of the people who walked along the shores - the waves always just did what they did best. They came and went.

He was good. He had talent to burn. I wanted to tell everyone about him - about his writing.

He was good he had talent to burn. I wanted to tell everyone about him - about his writing.