Somewhere in all the snow, she could see her broken heart, in two pieces.

There was also a rumor that later in the day, she walked fully clothed into the Amper River and said something very strange. Something about a kiss. Something about a Saumensch. How many times did she have to say goodbye?

And I stop listening to me, because to put it bluntly, I tire me.

So many humans. So many colours. They keep triggering inside me. They harass my memory. I see them tall in their heaps, all mounted on top of each other. There is air like plastic, a horizon like setting glue. There are skies manufactured by people, punctured and leaking, and there are soft, coal-coloured clouds, beating, like black hearts. And then. There is death. Making his way through all of it. On the surface: unflappable, unwavering. Below: unnerved, untied, and undone.

At first, she could not talk. Perhaps it was the sudden bumpiness of love she felt for him. Or had she always loved him?

Liesel observed the strangeness of her foster father's eyes. They were made of kindness, and silver.

Oh, come on, Arthur." "I don't want to hear it, Andy." "Jesus Christ" "He doesn't want to hear it, either.