  "when the buzzer buzzed just now, i had the idea that it was her, that she somehow knew that i cried in the shower until the hot water ran out and that i wrote a new haiku for her, the first in a long while (for first five months or so, I wrote her at least one haiku a day). i hurried into the hall and stood at the top of the stairs. the stairs were filled with silence.
i waited a long time, telling myself that perhaps she standing on the first stair, paralyzed with fear. i tried to listen for her breathing; it was so quiet i figured i could hear her breathing, assuming she was down there. but she wasnt down there. i know this because i finally went and looked for her. she wasnt there. i knew she wasn't there before i went, but i went anyway, because you never know. or perhaps you do know, but still. " urlLink never read something about buzzers and haikus and people that was so sad. and so brilliantly put. urlLink michael's writings often leaves me breathless. 
