Match.com -- are you serious? What planet are all these people living on? I didn’t have time for that, I had to think about the nature of my existence.
Books were made from the same substance of dreams, I was sure. They were clouds of creation and color, with moods and creatures and characters to adore. They were companions and friends with worn out pages that mimicked hands, reaching out for mine. Whether I was happy or sad, courageous or ...