She clutched the train ticket tighter and waited for the sense of escape to come over her as it had a dozen times before, that heady sensation of having just scooted through the clanging gate, of eluding the thrown net. It didn't come. She was running again, but she wasn't escaping. She'd been chased to ground a long, long time ago.
Connie BrockwayI want you cool and regal, earthy and impertinent, spoiling for a fight and abashed at your own temper. I want you flushed with exertion and rosy with sleep. I want you teasing and provocative, somber and thoughtful. I want every emotion, every mood, every year in a lifetime to come. I want you beside me, to encourage and argue with me, to help me and let me help you. I want to be your champion and lover, your mentor and student.
Connie BrockwayAn intelligent lady, a little too mature for recklessness, a little too young for caution.
Connie BrockwayI am no good without you, Ginesse,” he said. “I spent a lifetime alone, but I never understood loneliness until I was away from you. I never understood happiness until I saw you again.
Connie BrockwayShe'd stood by that creed. No softness, because the world wasn't soft; lots of laughter, because if you were in on the joke, the joke couldn't be on you; And no wanting what you couldn't take, because the world never gave. Or so she'd thought.
Connie BrockwayYou are my country, Desdemona. ... My Egypt. My hot, harrowing desert and my cool, verdant Nile, infinitely lovely and unfathomable and sustaining.
Connie Brockway