Sunday, December 24, 2006

Dramaturge

I read her works in the line at the store. She didn't steal my heart, but I couldn't take my mind off the words walking across that page. Talking about life I only sort of knew. Food and sex and fear. Sadness. Strength. It didn't seem like a particularly good book, but still, for some reason, I'd like to read it. Maybe that's success.

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