But it does make me sad that we've forgotten our names. Out of everything, this seems to me the most tragic. I miss my own and I mourn for everyone else's, because I'd like to love them, but I don't know who they are.

There is no ideal world for you to wait around for. The world is always just what it is now, and it's up to you how you respond to it.

What wonderful thing didn't start out scary?

Are my words ever actually audible, or do they just echo in my head while people stare at me, waiting?

Just... ate," M says, frowning at me a little. "Two days...ago." I grab my stomach again. "Feel empty. Feel... dead." He nods. "Marr...iage.

What happened to the world was gradual. I've forgotten what it actually was, but I have faint, fetal memories of what it was like. A smoldering dread that never really caught fire till there wasn't much left to burn. Each sequential step surprised us. Then one day we woke up, and everything was gone.

Everything you see, you might be seeing for the last time.