Eliot wrote: “These fragments I have shored against my ruins.”What does it mean to live among fragments, to call survival itself a kind of architecture?

Write a piece that gathers your fragments.

Begin with something broken or incomplete… a line overheard on the train, a memory cut short, a half-kept promise. Let it stand as a fragment.

Then, one by one, add to it until you glimpse the shape of a ruin you can live inside.

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