The thing about hope is that it doesn't go away even when it serves no purpose.

It doesn't matter how much his mother loves him; love is not enough to keep any of us alive.

He gathers me up and I'm weightless before he sets me on the railing. He's the only thing keeping me from falling back, out of the reach of daylight. I'm not afraid of falling. I don't fear the sky beyond the train tracks like I did before. I can go anywhere just so long as it's with him.

Gabriel's voice can reach me anywhere. Even in a hurricane.

Time was our very first king. We all live our lives to the aggressive ticking of the clock. We don't question that our lives are a grid of seconds; even our pulses oblige. No succeeding king can hope to hold this kind of power.

But instead of tears, when I press my face against the pillow, a horrible, primal scream comes out of me. It's unlike anything I thought myself capable of. Rage, unlike anything I've ever known.

I watch the ashes swim around like dandelion puffs, making swirls where bodies and walls once stood.