From Diane Setterfield's The Thirteenth Tale

People disappear when they die. Their voices, their laughter, the warmth of their breath. Their flesh. Eventually their bones. All living mempry of them ceases. This is both dreadful and natural. Yet for some there is an exception to this annihilation. For in the books they write they continut to exist. We can rediscover them. Their humour, their tone of voice, their moods. Through the written word they can anger you or make you happy. They can comfort you. They can perplex you. They can alter you. All this, even though they are dead. Like flies in amber, like corpses frozen in ice, that which according to the laws of nature should pass away is, by the miracle of ink on paper, preserved. It is a kind of magic.

--Diane Setterfield



Monday, July 2, 2012

Anxiety

Have you ever written an e-mail to someone and then been afraid that they were offended by that e-mail and then dream that they were experiencing some PTSD and it was manifesting because they were self extracting their own teeth and feeding them to red ants*?

*Because "I realized that I didn't need that tooth to eat with."
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1 comment:

medieval.woman said...

No, but I did once hear from a neighbor girl that when she was in 7th grade she and her friend were having a sleepover and wondered who could lose more teeth, and so this girl popped 7 teeth right out of her head.

Last I heard, she was interested in studying dentistry.

September 9, 2012 at 9:34 PM

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