I cut off a piece of meatball dripping with sauce. I tried to make my face right. I tried to smile and not grimace, tried to close my eyes in delight , not panic; tried to swallow, not gag. They watched me like hawks.
'Delicious,' I said, still chewing. They tasted like salt and shit and gristle.
'As good as you remember?'
'Better.'
I got through two. I drank a lot of water. I broke them down into fractions of themselves, sixteen more to go, fourteen more, eight, one. In my head I said sorry to grandad, and to the lamb or pig or mixture of creatures I was eating. I put my knife and fork together with four of them still swimming on my plate.

Jenny Valentine

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What are you afraid of," she said. "Daylight?"
No. I'm afraid of you. I'm afraid of myself, of whatever it is I'm going to do or say to make it all go wrong. I'm desperately trying to avoid that moment and walking straight toward it, all at the same time.
"I'm just tired," I said.

Jenny Valentine

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It's amazing what storms your face can hide, what terrible wrecks can writhe and heave beneath, without one ripple on the surface.

Jenny Valentine

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