There I was, an 18-year-old mimic rooming with a blind whistler.

There’s this thing about shadows.They mimic us. They are a constant reminder of the fact that we are not alone, we are never alone.They follow and they obey much like a disciple and his teacher....

And now, my poor old woman, why are you crying so bitterly? It is autumn. The leaves are falling from the trees like burning tears- the wind howls. Why must you mimic them?