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Part-Time Angels — Richard Bach
"These are your own sheep," she said, "and you're destroying them? And you don't care?"
"They're not sheep, they're words. They've been read. So I'll just sweep the ashes, make room for other words."
"Whisk? All gone?”
"That's what I'm planning. Do you mind?”
"OK. They might as well be buried. I'm sorry I screamed."
"They're not sheep, they're words. They've been read. So I'll just sweep the ashes, make room for other words."
"Whisk? All gone?”
"That's what I'm planning. Do you mind?”
"OK. They might as well be buried. I'm sorry I screamed."
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