On their best days, writers all over the world are winning Pulitzers, all alone in their studios, with no one watching.
The world, a tired performer, offers us another half-assed season.
We realized that the version of the world they rendered for us was not the version of the world they really believed in...
and she had succeeded, on the second try, in hurling herself out of the world
It was something every child knew how to do, maintain a direct and full connection with the world. Somehow you forgot about it as you grew up, and had to learn it again.
Household objects lost meaning. A bedside clock became a hunk of molded plastic, telling something called time, in a world marking it's passage for some reason.