All the Ugly and Wonderful Things

by Bryn Greenwood

There was a set of shelves with some books and the kind of junk I used to collect when I was a kid. An old purple glass bottle, a cat skull, a rock with a hole in it, a hood ornament, a mannequin’s hand. Just stuff that calls out to you.

I liked the darkness and waiting for a tornado to tear the school away. Nothing like that happened. It never did when you wanted it to.

After she lit the candles, I let them burn for a while, just to look at them reflected in Wavy’s eyes.

Maybe she could have a regular life with good people.

I could have told him there was no sense in rushing toward being dead. It would find you soon enough, and before it did there were pleasures to make your heart hurt less.