Can you believe it? Fifty miles from McDonald's. I didn't think there was anywhere in the world that was fifty miles from McDonald's.

I wonder$$$ Are fictions safe places? And then I ask myself$$$ Should they be safe places?

Names come and names go.

Words can be worrisome$$$ people complex$$$ motives and manners unclear$$$<br/>Grant her the wisdom to choose her path right$$$ free from unkindness and fear.

Actually I didn't shoot a man in Reno just to watch him die$$$ but he could tell I was extremely cross.

Can't say I've ever been too fond of beginnings$$$ myself. Messy little things. Give me a good ending anytime. You know where you are with an ending.

Have you ever had one of those days when something just seems to be trying to tell you somebody?

It doesn't matter that I can't remember the details any longer: death happened to her. Death happens to all of us.

Lies and half-truths fall like snow$$$ covering the things that I remember$$$ the things I saw. A landscape$$$ unrecognizable after a snowfall; that is what she has made of my life.

The boy had the towering arrogance only seen in the greatest of artists and all nine-year-old boys.