Sunda

“She walked to the water’s edge. Chase would not let this go. Being isolated was one thing; living in fear, quite another. She imagined taking one step after the other into the churning sea, sinking into the stillness beneath the waves, strands of her hair suspending like black watercolor into the pale blue sea, her long fingers and arms drifting up toward the backlit blaze of the surface. Dreams of escape—even through death—always lift toward the light. The dangling, shiny prize of peace just out of grasp until finally her body descends to the bottom and settles in murky quiet. Safe. Who decides the time to die?”
― Delia Owens, Where the Crawdads Sing

“There are some who can live without wild things, and some who cannot”
― Delia Owens, Where the Crawdads Sing