Evie wanted to cry. From fear. From exhaustion, yes. But mostly from the cruel uselessness, the damned stupid arbitrariness of it all.

They swoon over Tom, who preens for them, bowing, which sets them to blushing and giggling. God help us all.

When you looked up to the sky and cried 'Why?' sometimes the sky shrugged, yet other times it answered with warm assurance of linked hands.

I'm going to eviscerate you and leave your organs on a pike in the yard as a warning to those who wear large jewelry.

The uncertainty of our future is nothing more than a fog of breath on a windowpane.

Evie wanted to cry. From fear. From exhaustion, yes. But mostly from the cruel uselessness, the damned stupid arbitrariness of it all.

There is no greater power on this earth than story.