[he] Didn’t Like To Think Of Himself

Mortified At The Speed With Which Intimacy Evaporates.

The City Had Defeated Her, Just Like They Said It Would. Like Some Overcrowded Party, No One Had Noticed Her Arrival, And Would Notice If She Left.

She Made A Firm Resolution, One Of The Resolutions She Was Making Almost Daily These Days. No More Sleepovers, No More Writing Poetry, No More Wasting Time. Time To Tidy Up Your Life. Time To Start Again.

I Worry Sometimes That I'm A Bit Moralistic; Always Writing About Men Who Are Learning To Grow Up, Not Be So Self-absorbed, Selfish Or Badly Behaved. I Wonder If That's Dull And Liberal And Wimpy? I Should Probably Write Something That Celebrates Wickedness.

You Start Out Wanting To Change The World Through Language, And End Up Thinking It's Enough To Tell A Few Good Jokes.