There’s nothing more intoxicating than creating something from nothing. Creating something from yourself.” Professor Piper
If Levi were a dog, he’d be a golden retriever. If he were a game, he’d be a Ping-Pong, incessant and bouncing and light.
Why do I write?
To be somewhere else
To get free of ourselves
To stop being anything or anywhere at all
When I wake up on Sunday Mornings – late, you always let me sleep in – I come looking for you, and you’re in the backyard with dirt on your knees and two little girls spinning around you in perfect orbit. And you put their hair in pigtails and you let them wear whatever madness they want, and Alice planted a fruit cocktail tree and Noomi ate a butterfly, and they look like me because they’re round and golden, but they glow for you.
She smiled, and her eyes started to drift downward.
Back up to his eyes.
“You know that I’m falling in love with you, right?