Bury Our Bones in the Midnight Soil

by V.E. Schwab

“Did you find someone brave enough to love you?”

“You know,” says Jack. “We think ourselves immortal, but we’re not.” Charlotte blinks, forcing her attention back to him. “Live long enough, and things begin to rot.” He draws a hand from his pocket, taps a fingertip against his chest. “Compassion, affection, humility, care.” One strike with every word. “They drop away like petals, till all that’s left is stem and thorn. Hunger, and the urge to hunt.”

When you are happy, a decade rushes by. When you are sad, a minute crawls. When you are lonely and afraid, time seems to lose all meaning. Blink, and a year is gone. Blink, and it has only been a night.

But time wears the edges off all things.