Tears of Amber

by Sofía Segovia

But he’d learned to be glad for life for its own sake; glad to live another day, and another, and another. Hungry, but alive to enjoy food another day. Cold, but alive to enjoy warmth when it came. Alone, but alive to enjoy company when it found him.

he’d never seen a word that could survive alone, without anyone welcoming it into the warmth of an ear;

“Was it fear? I don’t know anymore: hate and fear are very alike and they’re great motivators, don’t you think? They should both be included among the great muses of destruction.