Quote

Today on the way home, it snows. Big, soft caressing flakes fall onto our skin like cold moths the air fills with feathers.

Margaret Atwood

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Margaret Atwood
Age: 84
Born: 1939
Born: November 18
Essayist
Inventor
Literary Critic
Non-Fiction Writer
Novelist
Pedagogue
Poet
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Ottawa (Ontario)
Margaret Eleanor Atwood
Cold
Fills
Bigs
Feathers
Fall
Onto
Home
Soft
Today
Snow
Caressing
Way
Skin
Snows
Like
Skins
Flakes
Air
Moths

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Thy only authentic ending is the one provided here: John and Mary die, John and Mary die, John and Mary die.
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Science fiction is filled with Martians and space travel to other planets, and things like that.
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You might 'write from the heart,' but you'd better polish with your brain.
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I am certain that a Sewing Machine would relieve as much human suffering as a hundred Lunatic Asylums, and possibly a good deal more.
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