It was darker in the tower than any place Devnee had ever been. The dark had textures, some velvet, some satin. The dark shifted positions.
The dark continued to breathe. The breath of the tower lifted her clothing like the flaps of a tent, and sounded in her ears like falling snow.
It's the wind coming through the double shutters, Devnee told herself.
But how could the wind come through? There were glass windows between the inside and outside shutters.
Or were there?
The windows weren't just holes in the wall, were they?
What if there was no glass? What if things crawled through those open louvers, crept into the room, blew in with the cold that fingered her hair? What creatures of the night could slither through those slats?
She had not realized how wonderful glass was, how it protected you and kept you inside.
She knew something was out there.
Stichwörter: windows dark tower glass vampire scary shutters
I have this terrible fear of fractions," Christina told him. ... "Miss Schuyler thinks she can conquer it. Also a fear of running out of popcorn. Nothing could be worse than going to a movie and they don't have any popcorn, you know?
Caroline B. CooneyDon't they look like ancient island princesses, marked out for sacrifice? Sent away for the sake of the islanders, to be given to the sea?
Caroline B. CooneyShe wanted love, adventure, and wild, fierce emotions that would batter her, as storms battered the island. I am thirteen, Christina thought, I am ready. I want it all.
Caroline B. CooneyIt's been one nightmare after another, Christina thought. Pretty soon I won't be able to keep track of them all.
Caroline B. CooneyI thought of the parable of the prodigal son. We had made merry for the beloved child's return too - but what happens when the beloved child doesn't say she's sorry? The parable doesn't talk about that. Jesus figures of course you're sorry. Jesus, I thought, you blew it. Not everybody is sorry.
Caroline B. CooneyStichwörter: children forgiveness bible
The most crippling part of my personality is that as much as I want to know something, I can't bear admitting I'm ignorant. It's as if I think I should have been born knowing and understanding all. As if when I say out loud, what are you talking about? the world will point and jeer.
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