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We pull up alongside the great body. The fin marks the spot.

The hands opened calmly like seeds, endured the passage of time.

The Others came in the light of day and splayed Father open.

We are good at thinking we can stay. We are good at finding hurt.

We’d never had a cross word, but I’d never corrected him.

There was nothing sadder than the look of defeat in a man’s eyes.

Design a way to kill those rats, and do it now, Fiori, do it now.

You gave me blue and I gave you yellow. Together we are green.

When I come to be old, I resolve not to tell the same story over and over.

She had yellow cat eyes that she insisted were also blond.

I hightailed it out of the hospital like my ex-wife was a prison I’d escaped.

Louise watched from the shadow. She was looking for somewhere to land.

The war was about to begin, and the four boys were
in charge.

While they stand in line Robin leans into his chest. They don't talk.

A whippoorwill called, a lonely voice among the cedars.

The lion was still near them, stalking. Crazed against its cautionary nature.

There isn’t a nice Jewish boy in sight—not that I’m looking for one.

I open the door and Eleanor is leaning against the wall, paper white.

I never actually existed. I didn’t know it at the time, but it’s clear as day.

We can be naked in black light, the smell of unwash and old pot.

“I don’t think I can do this,” she says, after a pause. “I don’t trust you.”

I was opposed to the taking of human life. I was opposed to all war.

The window washer smiles a little and licks his lips. Nadine smiles back.

Give him a bottle of red wine. You’ll be his best friend right away.

The gravest season and least understood is more than pale heads

He begrudged how money poured through her hands like water.

The Nazis are training some of their storm-troopers here in America.

Of course she had known. Nothing in this life escaped her design. Everywhere, people ogled the ring. Everywhere, Emeline posted pictures.

Her mother singing out the window at trucks slamming the other way.

won’t you celebrate with me that every day has tried to kill me