No, books. She would have maybe twenty going at a time, lying all over our house--on the kitchen table, by her bed, the bathroom, our car, her bags, a little stack at the edge of each stair. And she'd use anything she could find for a bookmark. My missing sock, an apple core, her reading glasses, another book, a fork.

"Well? Is it true? Did she?" "Did she what?" "You know. Fall outta the crazy tree and hit every branch on the way down?"

Nothing was ever how you wanted it to be. Not anymore. Not for me.

Stupid to the power of stupid.

I never loved you any more than I do, right this second. And I'll never love you any less than I do, right this second.

Aw, come on. I barely speak English, unless we're talking about the Lowcountry kind.

Your bird drinks whiskey and eats tobacco?" The old man frowned."Just be lad he doesn't like eatin' scrawny boys that don't know their way 'round the Otherworld.