Their next reunion shifted like an oasis on the horizon, and Jude couldn't plot her course. She trudged through her days, haunted by the feeling that real life was happening five thousand kilometers a...
The worn soles of Daffy's boots skidded on the icy stones. He'd been saving up for a new pair for Christmas, but then he'd come across an encyclopaedia in ten volumes, going cheap. Boots might last te...
Somewhere between good and bad - bits of both stuck together.Ma
She leaped into space, high, higher than she'd ever been in her life. She came down with a clean snap, and the crowd scattered like birds from the swing of her feet.
My eyes dawdled across the missalette. I had never noticed before that the official title of the ‘Lord have mercy’ prayer was the gracious phrase ‘Invitation to Sorrow’. Hey there, Sorrow, how’ve you...
Houses are like lots of Rooms stuck together, TV persons stay in them mostly but sometimes they go in their outsides and weather happens to them.
Fate was faceless, life arbitrary, a tale told by an idiot.
Careful. Why do persons only say that after the hurt?
— ¿Y cómo va a castigarnos?—No, quiero decir que ya lo está haciendo. Cortando la luz.—Ah, pero eso no es malo.Mamá se echa a reír.—¿Cómo que no? nos estamos helando, estamos comiendo verduras babosas...
— ¿Por qué se ha reído de que sepa todas las palabras, si yo no lo decía en broma?— le pregunto a mamá.— Ah, qué más da, siempre es bueno hacer reír a la gente
Was interesting. Is that what your ma says to say when you don’t like something? She smiles a bit. I taught her that. Is she dying by now?
Your songs are still out there on the clifftop, hanging in the air for you when you want them. Wish to speak and you will speak, girl. Wish to die and you can do it. Wish to live and here you are.
Yeah, but for me, see, Jack was everything. I was alive again, I mattered. So after that I was polite. Polite? Oh, you mean with— It was all about keeping Jack safe. Was it agonizingly hard to be, as...
Was that hard-hearted? Well, so what if it was. She'd been through enough to harden anyone. It was none of her choosing; all she'd done was clung on to her life like a spar from a shipwreck. Better to...
The sound of the pages turning was the sound of magic. The dry liquid feel of paper under fingertips was what magic felt like.
The lightest touch might keep Mary there, rooted in this frozen alley. Instead, she stretched out her hand to the worn red ribbon in Doll's wig. Was it the same one, she wondered, the first one, the r...
The girl remembered London as a place of infinite freedom. Now it seemed she'd rented out her whole life to the Joneses in advance. Service had reduced her to a child, put her under orders to get up a...
That night my new skin was red silk, shivering in the breeze.
Stories are a different kind of true.
Sometimes love is a pie. There just isn't enough to go around. Or OK, maybe there is enough love, but not enough time and attention, so you have to grab your piece, and then the pie smashes and you're...