“A pause. It might have been pregnant. I’ve never been sure how to tell if a silence has conceived or not.”

“Silence. How long it lasted, I couldn't tell. It might have been five seconds, it might have been a minute. Time wasn't fixed. It wavered, stretched, shrank. Or was it me that wavered, stretched, and shrank in the silence? I was warped in the folds of time, like a reflection in a fun house mirror.”

“I'd rather be a 'could-be' if I cannot be an 'are' because a 'could-be' is a 'maybe' who is reaching for a star. I'd rather be a 'has-been' than a 'might-have-been' by far; for a 'might-have-been' has never been, but a 'has' was once an 'are.”

“I'd rather be a could-be if I cannot be an are; because a could-be is a maybe who is reaching for a star. I'd rather be a has-been than a might-have-been, by far; for a might have-been has never been, but a has was once an are.”

“I’ve lived in Jacksonville for—not sure, I get Jacksonville and Paris mixed up. I’ve never been to Paris.”

“Trav? Are you okay?” I asked.There was a long pause before he finally spoke. “I’ve never been less okay in my life.”