CHAPTER ONE:

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"The Soul Selects" par Emily Dickinson

The soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.

Unmoved, she notes the chariots pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.

I've known her from an ample nation
Choose one;
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.
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Buffy had quickly become the spokeswoman for "keeping busy" in the days after her mother's death. She maintained an eerily upbeat attitude, kept in constant motion, and framed her...