I own naught but the order of the words.
Ending lines of , in order, chapters: 11, 1, 9, 8+6, 3, 4, 7, 2, first-page-of-book, 12. I forget what this type of poetry's called; anybody care to enlighten me?
OoOoOoOo
"Sure," I said, "I'll be more careful."
But I never believe me.
He suddenly bolted through the door and down the hall.
I went on, walking home slowly - to stay.
I was wrong.
He was asleep, too.
Things were rough all over, but it was better that way.
I know better now.
What are we gonna do?
And I finally began like this.