Shantih Journal 2.1 - Page 98

Such Is The Art Of Warfare Lisa stice Sometimes her mother would worry about her, that she would be lonesome all by herself, with a dog for a brother in this out of the way place where we are only acquainted with neighbors, and only some. This is the art of studying circumstances. She pitched up camp between sofa and coffee table under pillows and cushions she said, I like it better here. She liked to smell the flowers hand-picked from air hold their invisible petals against her face, breathe the scent of once upon a time. This is the art of studying moods. And so her mother knew she was not lonesome: she was like a mountain like a fire, like a thunderbolt. Her mother whispered, let your plans be impenetrable. This is the art of self-preservation. 98