Let's Go Play at the Adams'

by Mendal W. Johnson

Freedom was no one there: freedom was no one caring (and Cindy didn’t like to perform without her audience).

Who knows what people think when they’re children and we haven’t broken them yet?

carbonated on the inside, a bottle of fizz that someone had shaken too hard; everything tingled. He felt that he had some kind of haze over his eyes; there was a knot in his throat. He was afraid.

Great description

he seemed to be crawling around in his own skin like something in a bottle.

Oof... What a description

Do not show Fate the face of your longing; you will be disappointed.

Children are children, and the fury of nature is ever the fury of nature.

People in pain live by a different clock, she thought; it never moves.

He was thinking about—about a world she would never know, a time (could it be as little as twelve hours from now?) that was beyond any time she would ever experience. He was thinking beyond her lifetime.

Guttwrenching

This is not the end, either. Despite human protest, the end of the end goes on forever.