People fear anyone who differs from what is considered normal, and in a small town the idea of normal can be as narrow as the streets.

A storm was brewing. The wind has picked up and a mass of purple clouds was coming in from the West. It felt good to have my hair whipping around my head. I thought it might feel good to have hail beat down on me. Sometimes storms outside are the only relief for storms inside.

The problem for me is that I can't ever really see who Gregory is, any more than I can see what a mirror by itself looks like, because he reflects whoever's around him.

There's a gentleness about April that made me ache. It seemed like I was always on the run, always working and chasing some goal or another, but April had a way of holding me still. And then I'd begin to hurt and yearn for something I couldn't describe, something I hadn't known yet. All I knew was the ache itself and the strange, sweet feeling it was.

When a writer looked at an empty computer screen, what did she see? Tristan wondered. A movie screen ready to be lit with faces? A night sky with one small star blinking at the top, a universe ready to be written on? Endless possibilities. Love's endless twists and turns - and all love's impossibilities.

The truth was, it was myself I couldn't trust, my eyes from betraying my heart.

Some people fall head over heels. Other people begin to fall without even knowing it—love grows like a spring flower beneath last autumn’s leaves and catches them by surprise.