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Use this space for notes and reminders to yourself.
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A great place to keep your fantastic ideas, like, "Hey! I need to write more sentences about crickets and English gentlemen with unruly beards."
At first there were just spots which could be ignored or mopped up, but as the rising tide of paper covered his entire office floor, a cold layer of anxiety floated on top, quickly rising to envelop his chest, heart and lungs.
Currently, there is a very special place in my heart for the few people in my life to whom I can say, without a trace of self-consciousness, “Yeah, I take a picture of where I am every day at 10:10 for this blog I know.”
I will put the corn on the cob in the fridge, I will put the tomatoes and the new boule of mozzarella on the kitchen table, I will start the water running in the bath, I will say hello to my young man, I will return to the bath, I will…
My heart is a plastic explosive filled with sawdust and wire.
Tearing apart the nurse’s station, searching for the missing Holy Water to baptize a dying baby before the heart stops beating, I think to myself; “I hate this fucking job.”
Henry was shocked to learn he’d wasted four long years researching fondness when Ruth, his lab assistant, informed him that it was absence that made the heart grow fonder, and not abstinence, although this did prove once and for all that doctors should never test theories on themselves.
The busiest, tiniest kitchens are sometimes the heart of entire families.
My heart, his mind, the sky; I have it all.
“It’s strong as long as you don’t get it wet,” Henry told her, gently touching his corrugated heart.
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