My writing has recently become intensely personal, and as such it has become exceedingly sparse. The stories I tell are becoming shorter and shorter, as I realize that long stories are always ongoing and can often be divided into smaller, more manageable stories. I used to be able to tell other people's stories well, because I did not know them well. Now that I am close with fewer people (and those that I am close with, I know considerably more personally), telling their stories becomes increasingly more difficult. I simply cannot do them justice. This is, alas, a note on the death of a storyteller.