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a terrible white like the rolled eyes of an attacking shark or swollen spider eggs ready to hatch, and the worst part was I’d feel them seeing me. They’d
There lies madness.
as cursed as I was,
D-day for me and my sea serpent backbone.
(which, in retrospect, it was).
He has cancer? Its spread to his bones and Mercy is a figment of his imagination? But gfigments cant drive or carry coffins or give you Hüsker Dü.
She's radioactive? An alien out of time? Nope. Dumb.
Maybe he's absorbing the decrepitude of the dead?
why am i guessing? I shoud just read.
The Incredible Kyphosising Creature.
The death symptom.
Quasimodo is the easiest and obvious reference point.
We’re going to my ancestral home. I’ll introduce you to the family, then bury you in the basement and grow flowers from your corpse.”
it was disappointing to find notices for shitty, cheesy bands like Extreme next to Living Colour and the Ramones.
no recognition of who Julia was, which was our fate.
The erasure of familial and cultural memory of any one individual was simply a function of time.
“Hope is believing there’ll be another moment of joy, and despair is knowing there won’t be one more.
Verbing a Clive Barker movie.
You are a monster.
Without missing a beat, Mercy added, “No one will find either of us.”
I am losing you and the loss is as aching and delicious and bottomless and as addictive as the gain, as the replacing.
(but an anti–Peter Parker, one who husked both Uncle Ben and Aunt May),

