In the distinctly human sense of our existence, people are made of language. - David Baboulene

On summer evenings, before bathtime, my dad used to pick me up by the ankles and swing me round and round! Then one arm and one leg! Like an aeroplane - Wheeeee! We trashed that bathroom.

The criminal clearly wasn't expecting to find me there. He looked back at me with an expression of sheer balaclava written all over his face.

The writer doesn’t push story into us, he withholds information in order that we draw his story out of ourselves.