a little bird moves a mountain of sand one grain at a time it picks up one grain every million years and when the mountain has been moved the bird puts it all back again and that's how long eternity is and that's a very long time to be dead

I miss him as soon as he goes. When he isn't with me, I think I made him up.

The last few weeks, it was as if someone had taken his life to pieces and let him see the way it worked.

Should we say something?’ Cal asks. ‘Goodbye, bird?’ I suggest. He nods. ‘Goodbye, bird. Thank you for coming. And good luck.

There's a terrible stillness. I notice a small tear in the wallpaper above her shoulder. I notice finger marks grimed on the light switch. Somewhere down in the house, a door opens and shuts. As Zoey turns to face me, I realize that life is made up of a series of moments, each one a journey to the end.

She'll understand what I already know - that death surrounds us all. And it tastes like metal between your teeth.

I've always wanted to be a cat. Warm and domesticated when you want to be, wild when you don't.