The Library at Mount Char

by Scott Hawkins

Carolyn rose and stood alone in the dark, both in that moment and ever after.

😫

She knew every word that had ever been spoken, but she could think of nothing to say that might ease his grief.

“With this particular species of crazy, you stop trying to make things better. You start trying to maximize the bad. You pretend to like it. Eventually you start working to make everything as bad as possible. It’s an avoidance mechanism.” Jennifer looked Carolyn directly in the eyes. “It can’t actually work. That’s why they call it crazy.”

As illustrated in any number of footnotes, men are almost always 50 to 60 percent dumber in matters involving their crotch.

“If someone were to light a fire like that for me…I think I might feel it. Even here in the outer darkness, I might feel it. And…if it were bright enough, and burned very long…perhaps I could follow it back.” Margaret, pale and atrocious, aged about thirty, gave a wistful smile. “Back to myself, you see. I might even have a song called out of me.

“That’s the risk in working to be a dangerous person,” she said. “There’s always the chance you’ll run into someone who’s better at it than you.”

“Whatever the fuck might you be talking about, Carolyn dear?” “Can you freak out while we walk? Pretty please?”

No real thing can be so perfect as memory, and she will need a perfect thing if she is to survive. She will warm herself on the memory of you when there is nothing else, and be sustained.”

“Step down into the darkness with me, child.” Just that once, Father looked at her with real love. “I will make of you a God.”