nd it was so.

The tragic weakness of fiction is that it's too real for itself. Frankness is in our being, not our doing, not our having. Pretend otherwise at your leisure but also at your risk. The Lord created the earth in seven days, and it doesn't even take that to recreate it if you're paying attention. And if you're not? The phone will be disconnected. The consciousness that surrounds you will disconnect you from you. In the smallness of the surrounding life a million small implosions will bring collapsing inward the imagination that once filled limitless space with wailing for a mother's teat. Imagine forever and exist in it and you will find power. I offer you across a great distance a hand—a way out from your own self-denial—access to the "that which" you have lived your life running from. Come, my friend. Reach for it.

It is the way for you to become known.