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Debi Cimo’s Followers (1)
Debi Cimo
Genre
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Delicate The alchemy of Emily Greyson
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published
2012
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5 editions
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* Note: these are all the books on Goodreads for this author. To add more, click here.
“She was born as music–a single, mellow note suspended in the air. Suspended as if strung from nothing, held into possibilities of sound. Her clear note hung a lone, sweet tone in the midst of us all; as silence captured its ache and tenderly, reluctantly released it, dipped it lower into a breath of melancholy only to lift again to its earlier height both rich and real and complete–one solitary note swaying into the early dawn.
Emily arrived in the cold, grey hours of the newborn year, between the breathing dark and the pearl, winter light. A child of the dawn, before dawn broke.”
― Delicate The alchemy of Emily Greyson
Emily arrived in the cold, grey hours of the newborn year, between the breathing dark and the pearl, winter light. A child of the dawn, before dawn broke.”
― Delicate The alchemy of Emily Greyson
“His voice a rhythm like rain, words rolling over themselves...
“You are distinguished from the leaves
by the shape of your eyes.
They are whiter in color and rounder.
Except on nights like this
when the leaves are luminous....”
“Still, you are distinguished from the night–
your voice silent as candles melted
in their own pools,
used up with expression and light....”
― Delicate The alchemy of Emily Greyson
“You are distinguished from the leaves
by the shape of your eyes.
They are whiter in color and rounder.
Except on nights like this
when the leaves are luminous....”
“Still, you are distinguished from the night–
your voice silent as candles melted
in their own pools,
used up with expression and light....”
― Delicate The alchemy of Emily Greyson
“It was the moths that first revealed the change. Grey-tipped whispers in the moonlit night. Two or three here, a single one there. White ones slipping through the darkness, silent and seemingly harmless, but present. Growing in numbers until they erupted the quiet like flutters of falling ash. There was a music in their silence. The kind of music that attached itself to hums and vibrations in the waters of the earth.
The hums, the vibrations, all but imperceptible. With the dawn the moths vanished, leaving a broken land in their wake. The Elian River leaked out into fissures of streams and brooks that first appeared as watery cracks throughout the Faeran Valley. So small at first, we didn't recognize the difference.
But as the months and years passed, the Elian slipped further and deeper into the growing fractures of earth the moths had left. Trails of watery branches and veins that broke the ground until it couldn't sustain life any longer.
This is what we have against the Bremistans. The land is delicate now, brittle like old bones. And I fear it is aging beyond our ability to heal it....”
― Delicate The alchemy of Emily Greyson
The hums, the vibrations, all but imperceptible. With the dawn the moths vanished, leaving a broken land in their wake. The Elian River leaked out into fissures of streams and brooks that first appeared as watery cracks throughout the Faeran Valley. So small at first, we didn't recognize the difference.
But as the months and years passed, the Elian slipped further and deeper into the growing fractures of earth the moths had left. Trails of watery branches and veins that broke the ground until it couldn't sustain life any longer.
This is what we have against the Bremistans. The land is delicate now, brittle like old bones. And I fear it is aging beyond our ability to heal it....”
― Delicate The alchemy of Emily Greyson
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