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Everything I’m writing has been short recently I don’t like to write endings I’m bad at them   Endings must have a stake in what happened, and I’ve never been interested in what happened   Where have we been? Endings ask Where must we go from here? They answer   Some people, lucky ones, can only write endings— as if forever in state of taking stock and gazing out,   as if to fall, to fear, these things could go on indefinitely, as if shadow were just another word for shade