I want the purse I ordered to show up. I want it to be January 22nd so I can get an iPhone. I want work to be over. I want Christmas to be over so I can just be on vacation. I want it to snow. I want to go to the gym so I can feel better about myself. I want more of that sausage that’s down in the kitchen. I want that guy to be single and miserable the rest of his life. I want to finish my library book.
“Books were so much paper, music a grating noise. That is the way leaves fall around a tree in autumn, a tree unaware of the rain running down its sides, of the sun or the frost, and of life gradually retreating inward. The tree does not die. It waits.”—