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It had infuriated her, the harming of delicate wild things that could do nothing to defend themselves. It made her insides rage, and she’d felt a desperate desire to protect the land, but her voice felt trapped somewhere.
would normally have done all she could to avoid such a crowd, no matter how much she liked everyone in it, she knew without asking that this event wasn’t optional.
“That’s just your nature. So what, you’re quiet and sensitive. It doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. It doesn’t make you a bad person.
Hell, it
doesn’t even make you all th...
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She could have a nice childhood and a loving family and still need to leave it behind. Both things could be true. And escape was not without its regrets.
Hayden had spent a lifetime earning his immortality.
We’re still here, but invisible and able to observe everything without being observed ourselves.”
never tell if he was the one dying in the dream or if he was just seeing a vision of someone else’s death. But it had visited him so many times that now he was sure this must have been it. Although
nothing in this world was actually
permanent—he finally understood this truth—
The speed of sound equals distance divided by time.
the reflected sounds reach our ears less than 0.08 seconds after the original sound was made, we hear them as the same sound, which can make music sound fuller and
“All great ideas are dangerous.”
“That’s Wilde,
His Echo had been resolved.
“It is agonizing, the disposition of the human mind to construct obstacles in one’s own path, when the world itself has given us none. Life is so much easier than you think, Hayden MacKenna.”
didn’t mind when they spoke of past sadness or previous uncomfortable states of being, because when they did so, they were simply observing from a distance—curious, but not dragged down. Their feelings were mere oddities to be
explored rather than something to consume them.
“Hey, Dire Wolf,” she said, laughing so he wouldn’t
wanted the same things—solitude, quiet—when nearly everyone else had made her feel like there was something wrong with this.
She liked people, but if she could be invisible, if she could be a part of things without the pressure of having to talk, she would.
You could be scared at the top of a peak, but the mountain would still be there under your feet, strong as ever.
thousand other things. I can’t
pangram.
“Being remembered had meaning,
found that the recipes she was most nervous to try ended up being the ones the town enjoyed most.
Perhaps it was her penchant for needing to experiment. Needing to test
boundaries and cross...
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Banco Acústico, the Bench of Whispers,
she wasn’t being tattooed, her body longed for the feeling of the needle pressing into her skin, the high-pitched hum. It
brought a new kind of comfort to
think funerals are unnecessarily sad in that they exist at all. They’re not really for the dead. Just everyone left behind.”
What particular brand of good was just one of those details, the kind you don’t think to ask about, but the kind that is vital when you are no longer able to ask.
nothing could have prepared me for the wildness there, or the desolation. It was a place adrift.
We were finders.
They had been there before, and they were there again. They would always be there.
Earth has stories, but nobody remembers them. It can’t tell the stories on its own, so it’s becoming an echo of itself.”
could say something to her, reassure her in some way that what she’d done had meant a lot. That her life had meant a lot. That people leave in the middle of a path sometimes, and we have to keep walking. That small things done with great love become great things.
