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Hell didn’t seem much worse than an English spring.
All the ghost stories were wrong; hauntings were so rarely malicious. The dead only wanted to feel included.
The Lethe is all the memories that ever were. The Lethe is infinite. The Lethe is all the colors on the palette mixed into black. The Lethe doesn’t erase, it only absorbs.”
In an instant the sand rose up around her, threw her out and blocked Peter in.
WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK
The door swung open, and Peter Murdoch stumbled out.
SORRY WHAT
I wish I were the night, so that I might watch your sleep with a thousand eyes.
