Peace seems like a silly word to use here. Which is weird because I’m a pacifist. My rage looks in the mirror and hates what it sees. The milieu is safe. I’m pretty sure I’ve never hit someone in anger on purpose. Your conspicuous rage baffles me. Which is weird because there is a storm in the center of me that will never quiet. It’s the sun and the moon and the stars, all at once, burning a fire that never stops.
All the Fiction I Care to Remember