epigraph,

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i think i saw the devil once . . .




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antonio: will you stay no longer? nor will you not that I go with you? 

sebastian: by your patience, no. my stars shine darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate might, perhaps, distemper yours; therefore I shall crave of you your leave that i may bear my evils alone. it were a bad recompense for your love to lay any of them on you.


  —william shakespeare. "twelfth night; or, what you will", p.26





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 . . . and he was so different from you





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Minor Bird; Michael LangdonWhere stories live. Discover now