“Everybody asks why I started at the end and worked back to the beginning, the reason is simple, I couldn’t understand the beginning until I had reached the end. There were too many pieces of the puzzle missing; too much she would never tell. I could sell these things. People want to buy them. But I’d set all this on fire first. She’d like that. That’s what she would do. She’d make it just to burn it. I couldn’t afford this one, but the beginning deserved something special. But how do I show that nothing, not a taste, not a smell, not even the color of the sky has ever been as clear and sharp as it was when I belonged to her. I don’t know how to express that being with someone so dangerous, was the last time that I felt safe.” – White Oleander
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