symbols of hope

Mockingjay, may your aim be as true as your heart is pure.

                Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the seventy-sixth Hunger Games.

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the seventy-sixth Hunger Games.

With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby’s skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water. One time, I spent three days mixing paint until I found the right shade for sunlight on white fur. You see, I kept thinking it was yellow, but it was much more than that. Layers of all sorts of color. One by one. I haven’t figured out a rainbow yet. They come so quickly and leave so soon. I never have enough time to capture them. Just a bit of blue here or purple there. And then they fade away again. Back into the air.

                 Stay with me.                                                                                                                       Always. 

Good luck! And also remember to submit a photo of yourself with your copy of Lady Midnight! (Submitting a photo isn’t part of the giveaway, just something for fun!)

There are much worse games to play..

They belong to Snow, and our deaths do too. But if you kill him Katniss, if you end all of this, all those deaths… they mean something.

Tick, tock…

“Why should they?”

Tick, tock

Because we are one people, one army, one voice. Because today is our new beginning. Today, we have freed the Victors, tomorrow, Panem!

I’m more than just a piece in their Games.

and that, my friends, is how a revolution dies

“You’re not leaving me here alone,” I say. Because if he dies, I’ll never go home, not really.

What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again.