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Only that sounds as if I’m building something—a house perhaps. Or a picture in a jigsaw. Piece by piece. And the truth is, it was the other way around. Piece by piece, I was being torn apart.
My phone on the bedside table said it was 3:16 a.m.,
The witching hour!
No wonder it was still dark, it was the middle of the fucking night.
I did knock, but you didn’t hear, so I let myself in.
What about the door stopper Rowan used to bar the utility door?
burn.”
A small stream; a brook
If I was going to be paranoid, I might as well go the whole hog, after all.
recalcitrant
Great word!
a profusion of mushrooms and toadstools, still sprouting gamely in the dark.
Mexican Gothic vibes
Even the familiar plants in these surroundings looked strange and ominous—no longer grown for their lovely flowers and colors, but for their deadliness.
Perhaps it would revive.
Perhaps it's poisonous
I had too many secrets of my own to hold someone else’s up to the light to condemn them.
