#covertocover

My father was a king and the son of kings.  ...... Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood, like a hundred golden urns pouring out the sun.

I forget everything between footsteps. ...... I just have to keep walking until I get there.

Irene passed the mop across the stone floor in smooth, careful strokes, idly admiring the gleam of wet flagstones in the lantern-light. ...... She just hoped she lived long enough to enjoy it.

By the time Alex managed to get the blood out of her good wool coat, it was too warm to wear it. ...... 'Who is ready to go to hell?'

At the time I first realized I might be fictional, my weekdays were spent at a publicly funded institution on the north side of Indianapolis called White River High School, where I was required to eat lunch at a particular time - between 12:37 p.m. and 1:14 p.m. - by forces so much larger than myself that I couldn't even begin to identify them.  ...... You stare up at the same sky together, and after a while he says, I have to go, and you say, Good-bye, and he says, Good-bye, Aza, and no one ever says good-bye unless they want to see you again.

The child is dead. ...... Tell me.

It was a nice day.  ...... Slouching hopefully towards Tadfield ... forever.