Her eyes hold the pale moon in them, the way a still pond holds stars.
Homework, I have discovered, involves a sharp pencil and thick books and long sighs.
About chocolate: "This is what laughing tastes like.
But hunger, like food, comes in many shapes and colors.
Death's gruesome face taunts: soulless eyes, crimson grimace. I really hate clowns.
I always tell the truth, Stella replies. Although I sometimes confuse the facts.