"That wasn't writing," she says. "It was transcription." What the hells the difference? She stares. "Look," she says. "I made you move." What do you want out of life? I ask her. A pause. "Perfection." I laugh. "Then what the hell are you doing here?" Another pause. "Forcing you to make it easy." She makes a lousy cup of tea. I don't let her know, but she never drinks her own tea anyway. I think of this, and worry. -- -e. _______________________________________________ Five7Five mailing list [EMAIL PROTECTED] http://www.pairlist.net/mailman/listinfo/five7five
