As my wife is sleeping, I open up her head and look inside. It's a mess. There are half-finished thoughts laying around all over the place- some discarded, some set aside, disparate ideas are thrown together,

I am coming home from work. A wrinkled old lady sits with a small basket of apples on the side of the road amidst a pile of empty and bundled cardboard boxes. She is selling the apples, the

I am walking to work along a back street. I wear a sharp checked shirt under a V-necked sweater, and a dark jacket. I am wearing earphones connected to the rock-box in my pocket. I strike quite a