Potential has a shelf life.

A home filled with nothing but yourself. It's heavy, that lightness. It's crushing, that emptiness.

Time folds you in its arms and gives you one last kiss, and then it flattens you out and folds you up and tucks you away until it's time for you to become someone else's past time, and then time folds again.

I do have a life,' says Charis, blinking wet eyes.

'You have a rich inner life,' says Tony firmly. 'More than most.

Art is long and life is brief and mortality looms.

Life is warped. I'm just in sync.