But dreams have ways of turning into nightmares.

Grow up, Bailey." "That is precisely what I'm doing," Bailey says. "I don't care if you don't understand that. Staying here won't make me happy. It will make you happy because you're insipid and boring, and an insipid, boring life is enough for you. It's not enough for me. It will never be enough for me. So I'm leaving. Do me a favor and marry someone who will take decent care of the sheep.

Each of them always gravitating toward the other. Yet still they do not touch.

The night that seemed endless hours before is now slipping through your fingers, ticking by as it falls into the past and pushes you towards the future.

The rain increases and umbrellas sprout like mushrooms amongst the graves.

I think that's a hallmark of a really good story that it has readers that it speaks to more than others.

Trespassers Will Be Exsanguinated.