Parenthetically

A god lost in his bathroom finds a door…

(to the outside? No)

He finds the door to the next life.

He burns: “get back, get back to that nebula!”

Not The Steerage Type

Steerage is so queer.  The smells of others assault my tender sensibilities.  Why can’t they recognize the class of person that I am?  My hope is to make them all see how I belong at the top of the pyramid of being.  This may be steerage, but really I am not the least bit the steerage type.  Oh, you may spot me in the Stieglitz picture in the future and say to yourself — well, surely that’s the captain or some other important crew member out of uniform who happened to walk into the frame, but no, rest assured it is me — my qualities obvious to the naked eye.  See me and know you are not looking at a steerage personage it is me transubstantiated through time showing you the qualities of a truly refined man…

“Don’t get it right, get it written.”

— Lee Child