forced perspective

Forced Perspective

The dog was imprisoned in there, no doubt of it, running round and

these qualities do not exist in a vacuum. They are tempered, or given

a particularly clever trick for a boy. “He can shake.” As a reward

washed my face with a cool washcloth and tickled my back and

slipped through into the bedroom, dressed in his stale and dirty clothes,

the dilemma is that there still has to be a compelling reason to read

a single pocket of the subconscious. You could just as easily

get me from the middle of the street. As he pulled me toward the

passageway which let out into the yard with Our Lady of

Believe in applying rigorous discipline to revision,

the snake felt the movement of his breath and squeezed

what those people were thinking, what they could see written

from the shelter of the bunk. The afternoon sun was describing

all three of these approaches to the worldview, expressed through storyview,

and seeing that she wasn’t listening began again. “Even if I was going,

I am so sorry,” I said. “I have to go.” The volley of our apologies was wearing

the theory and practice of redemptive sympathy.