Kind people have a way of working their way inside me and rooting there.

Yes. I killed him. And buried her in flowers," I say. "And I sang her to sleep.

‎What is to prevent, say, an uprising?

I’m in a shallow hole, not filled with the humming orange bubbles of my hallucination but with old, dead leaves.

I reach out to touch his cheek and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips.

Tick, tock,” whispers Wiress. I guide her in front of me and get her to lie down, stroking her arm to soothe her. She drifts off, stirring restlessly, occasionally sighing out her phrase. “Tick, tock.” “Tick, tock,” I agree softly. “It’s time for bed. Tick, tock. Go to sleep.

You know, you could live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve him.