“What is today? She'd lost track over the last few days.Pixii shrugged. First day after firing the kiln.”

“Fuck. This was bad. It had happened, hadn't it? The thing she thought would never happen, the thing she was always so careful not to have happen. She'd lost count, she'd lost track of what exactly she'd taken, and it had happened.”

“She'd never in her whole life bunked school, smoked dope, or kissed a boy whose name she didn't know, and yet in the last few days, she'd done all these things.”

“In the last few months, she'd had a lot of time to consider the state of mankind, and she'd decided that people actually had very few choices in their lives. Most things happened to you. Most things rolled right over you and then kept on going.”

“The stories she'd read of others' lives over these last few months had left her with a greater appreciation for the thread of her own life.”

“She called and said she had to cancel tomorrow. “Cancel tomorrow!” I shrieked. “Does that make today the last day, or at midnight tonight will the world just skip over to the day after tomorrow? But wouldn’t that still make it tomorrow?”