The scent of overpriced coffee was like the armpit of God.
The Cinderella Game Kelly Link
This story is about the eschatology of shadow puppets.
—Only fools and the dead never change their mind.
Dolls fire our collective imagination, for better and - too often - for worse. From life-size dolls the same height as the little girls who carry them, to dolls whose long hair can 'grow' longer, to B...
I’m too exhausted to sleep,
So the little girl collected feeling like a cistern collects the rain, and when she held too much, she pulled it out and sealed it in beautiful vessels.
I subscribe to the tea-kettle theory of art, she’d responded. Open the valve and the energy escapes.
It’s one of those stories that needs tellin’ because it’s heavy, Tom said. Tellin’ it makes it easier to carry.
Everything spoken on this earth contains a truth not always apparent at the time.
Children often didn’t notice the things adults classified as disastrous. The opposite, Whitcomb thought, was also true.
The wood smoke gave the whole place the scent of autumn,
A man with no memory is interesting, while a man with sad memories can’t be buried fast enough.
Were like plaque in the arteries of the imagination, they clogged the sense of what was possible. Maybe
It’s easier to acquiesce. Everyone does, they tell him.
If man could be crossed with the cat, it would improve the man but deteriorate the cat— Now
I hated and loved him in turns, as witches will do, for our hearts are strange and inexplicable.
Sometimes God needs a sacrifice. Sometimes the road is complicit. No life is sacrosanct.
Moral: If at first you don’t succeed, invent fire. Or hire a chef. Preferably one with imagination. Jane Yolen,
Merchant Bashir got up and plodded to a pile of rugs. He grabbed a kilim and unrolled it across the floor. A mosaic of black, yellow, and maroon geometries glimmered. He taught me rug weaving. It’s a...