“ Dark is just light turned inside out, thinks Maddy. Why be afraid of that? ”
There are many different stories to tell. It's never the same. Every day weather blows in and out, alters the surface. Sometimes it is stripped down to a single essential truth, the thing that is always believed, no matter what. The seeds from which the garden has grown.
~ Helen Humphreys
Every story is a story about death. But perhaps, if we are lucky, our story about death is also a story about love.
Maybe reading was just a way to make her feel less alone, to keep her company. When you read something you are stopped, the moment is stayed, you can sometimes be there more fully than you can in your real life.
Who? Mr. Dalton has his hand firmly on Grace's elbow, as though she can't manoeuvre herself through the blockade of tables and chairs.She could fly right through you, thinks Jack.
