Tuesday Mooney Talks To Ghosts

by Kate Racculia

Tuesday had never thought of it in those terms, but yes, she didn’t trust people. People, in groups, alone—people disappointed you. That was what they did. They abandoned you. They didn’t believe you. They looked through you like you were made of smoke. You had your family, your work colleagues; you needed other humans around so you didn’t go completely feral, but the only person you could trust completely with yourself was yourself. That was, like . . . Basic Humanity 101.

his hairline was receding at the same rate as his childhood dreams.

Every time Dex succeeded in making Tuesday smile, it was like seeing a rainbow over a haunted house.

She had a magnificent laugh. It was warm and hearty, like a drunk but high-functioning sailor’s.

and because she remembered—after all these years, she remembered—this was how it felt to be safe with another person. A person who laughed with you, and sang with you, and held your hand, and handed you an umbrella when you needed to defend yourself. A person who deserved to know you, all of you, as you knew them. She wanted to tell him everything.