She knew what it felt like to stand in front of someone and ask them to love you, to try to pull them to you by the sheer force of your desire, a force so strong it felt as though you were going to die from it.
He reached out and pushed some hair behind her ears. The gesture was tender, but it hit her with an unexpected force, like when you're in the ocean and a wave hits you. It's so soft and coll that it surprised you that it has such strength.
But surprises were nothing new to her. Like opening a can of mushroom soup and finding tomato instead; be grateful and eat it anyway.
It was early evening when they walked outside, the sky the color of pink lemonade.
Some of the best people i know are fools', Evanelle said. 'The strongest people I know.
Memories, even hard memories, grew soft like peaches as they grow older.
The area was encompassed in a bubble of warm, fragrant steam from the funnel cake deep fryers. It smelled like sweet vanilla cake batter you licked off a spoon.
When she looked in the mirror these days, she saw someone she didn't recognize...She saw an old woman trying to be beautiful, her skin dry and her wrinkles like cracks. She looked like a very well-dressed winter apple.
If a man has so much heat he burns your skin when he touches you, he's the devil. Run away
It felt as though they were the only people in the world, two young women about to bury the symbol of their helplessness, as if that's all it would take to make them whole again.
He didn't think he belonged here, so she was making him face some uncomfortable facts. People adapt. People change. You can grow where you're planted.
Those silly girls had no idea what they were really celebrating. They had no idea what it took to bring Agatha and her friends together seventy-five years ago. The Women's Society Club had been about supporting one another, about banding together to protect one another because no one else would. But it had turned into an ugly beast, a means by which rich ladies would congratulate themselves by giving money to the poor. And Agatha had let it happen. All her life, it seemed, she was making up for things she let happen.
If they just carried on like always, everything would be ok.
Nothing is really broke, so it's not like I can fix it. I just have to keep trying to find what I'm looking for.
People always say life is too short for regrets. But the truth is, it's too long.
Stability was overrated. Crises and adventures, on the other hand, could actually teach you something.
It had always fascinated him that she'd consumed so many words, that her head was full of stories, told a thousand different ways.
Everything was quiet, a strange sort of quiet that felt like an unfinished sentence.
When Josey woke up and saw the feathery frost on her windowpane, she smiled. Finally, it was cold enough to wear long coats and tights. It was cold enough for scarves and shirts worn in layers, like camouflage. It was cold enough for her lucky red cardigan, which she swore had a power of its own. She loved this time of year. Summer was tedious with the light dresses she pretended to be comfortable in while secretly sure she looked like a loaf of white bread wearing a belt. The cold was such a relief.
Like magic, she felt him getting nearer, felt it like a pull in the pit of her stomach. It felt like hunger but deeper, heavier. Like the best kind of expectation. Ice cream expectation. Chocolate expectation.
She sometimes thought she was going crazy. Her first thought when she woke up was always how to get him out of her thoughts. And she would keep watch, hoping to see him next door, while plotting ways to never have to see him again.
Living down your own past was hard enough. You shouldn't have to live down someone else's.
Sometimes people who had been together for a long time got to imagining that things used to be better, even when they weren't.
Crystalline swirls of sugar and flour still lingered in the air like kite tails.
She'd fallen into the best part of her past.
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