...the sound of our lack of conversation amplified by the echo of our footsteps on the stone around us.

It tore my heart out, because I heard his voice. The wolves sang slowly behind him, bittersweet harmony, but all I heard was Sam. His howl trembled, rose, fell in anguish. I listened for a long time. I prayed for them to stop, to leave me alone, but at the same time I was desperately afraid they would. Long after the other voices had dropped away, Sam kept howling, very soft and slow. When he finally fell silent, the night felt dead.

Folded in my arms you're a butterfly in reverse you're giving up your wings and inheriting my curse you're letting go of me you're letting go

Sharing revelations is easier when it doesn't matter.

Then I picked my book back up again and stroked her hair and read to the soundtrack of her breaths.

I'm a dirt road out in the country kind of person, but I remember thinking, I could live in Chicago.

Without turning on the light, I went to my bed and lay down, my arm thrown across the mattress, my hand aching because Grace wasn't underneath it