// 2008 // ABOUT THE AUTHOR


There’s a woman sleeping down the hall.

Her hair isn’t golden or flaxen or any of those perfectly descriptive words. Her nose isn’t slight or bold. Her body isn’t proportional or buxom. Her lips aren’t full, but they are also not lacking. Her cheekbones are not defined or flat, but her eyes. Her eyes are full of gray, but really, that only means that they are neither light nor dark.

She isn’t particularly striking in any way. Which is why she doesn’t threaten me. She doesn’t frighten me. I am not scared.