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Kindle Notes & Highlights
Moonrise, they gathered across the grounds they’d always known, moving toward the churchyard, toward beyond, tender-footed as they stepped across the bones of their brethren buried below.
They chose this, always this, because they knew it was better to drown in the rivers and swamps.
They said, they said, they said, with no one knowing how much, if any of it, was true.
Soon enough, what’s been buried will rear itself again.
They’d always known their weapons were their bodies.
They made beauty out of nothing and wore it like the finest jewels.
Every day for them was the feeling that it could swing another way, followed by the pain of what lay true.
The marks of the world are on us, Mira thought. It’s often as simple as looking at a person’s hands to know who and all of what we’ve been.
