I’m beginning to think that if I wrote the whole truth, it wouldn’t be half as interesting as I’ve been imagining. Part of what makes it interesting is the fact that no one knows it, that for reasons which themselves must be concealed, it is concealed.
What is withheld grows. It’s like that book I loved as a kid, the one where a boy feeds his goldfish too much and the fish grows to enormous proportions. Bigger than a fishbowl, a room, a house.
Now I remember. The fish had to remain in water or would die. That’s what the police and firemen were for: they were trying to keep it submerged, which is to say, alive.

A man signs a shovel and so he digs.
Accessibility statement, Site map, Syndicated feeds
XHTML, CSS, 508 / Movable Type
© 1999-2007 Michael Barrish