Georgia had felt the colours and the rain, but she would not miss here. And there was something lost. The now-ness of things. It was not pretty.
Diana EvansGeorgia tutted under her breath. 'I'm loud sometimes,' she said, thinking So bloody what if I'm quiet - what's the thing about it?
Diana EvansI needed somewhere that wasn't bad. I wanted to be light and happy like you, and I wanted never for you to see the dark. I was scared I would infect you with terrible feelings and pictures in my head of walking out in front of the traffic and - No. That's not for you, see? Not for you to hear. I needed you to be my sunlight, Bessi,' and here George paused and her words became very small, 'I lost mine, I lost it.
Diana EvansTags: depression
For home had a way of shifting, of changing shape and temperature. Home was homeless. It could exist anywhere, because its only substance was familiarity. If it was broken by long journeys or tornadoes it emerged again, reinvented itself with new decor, new idiosyncrasies of morning, noon and dusk, and old routines.
Diana EvansTags: home
Page 1 of 1.
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.