there's a naked-split-second moment on my journey back home from work when my eyes feel like balls of foil - rough enough to leave marks on yoru skin where you to stroke it, soft enough to squeeze between your fingers and sharp as a world with its metaphors of mountaintops of anthouses, dumpsters, piles of laundry and and..but then again, it's just another daily journey home.

people. reading for a living is the best thing i have ever done.