There are stories told to him only at this time of year. Fantastic, magical stories, the old Hollier in the woods finding only three red berries, which peel back in the night to reveal gifts of frankincense, gold and myrrh, Christmas in hot deserts, dust-blown countries, the necklace of tears, and the story of the robin.
Sarah HallThere is always half a truth in cliche.
Sarah HallThe man had added to his body in a way that was brave and timeless and beyond adornment.
Sarah HallPeople were made up of shit and piss and phlegm and bits and pieces of experience.
Sarah HallThose partial to drink were hiding faults and dishonesty. They were sloppy souls, even the ones with pleasant manners and fine noses.
Sarah HallTag: drinking
That boy may have been born on third base but he sure as shit ain’t scored a triple.
Sarah HallTag: funny
One thing I will say, they often take it better than a man. Pain, that is. Probably the residue of tolerance from when they were all bloody witches and got stoned or burned or drowned for it, eh lad? Never tell your mother I said that, by the way.
Sarah HallTag: funny
Elliot Rawley was a drinker, Cy’s mother had been right. And he was a poor drinker. One that let the demons of the bottle into his head when he tipped it back, demons that went about unloosing all the trouble they could find stashed in the catacombs of his mind. Every tragic thing that had ever happened, every self-doubt, every delusion, freed itself from bondage and revisited him when he drank.
Sarah HallTag: drinking
People went through life like well handled jugs, collecting chips and scrapes and stains from wear and tear, from holding and pouring life.
Sarah HallTag: pretty-metaphors
There were times when initial introductions were so vested with something other as to confuse and distract and entrance both parties, Cy would realize later. And only further into their relationships when you knew the person better, and their place in your life became clear, if there was love, if there was hate, if there was deepness of any kind, only then did you understand that the embers of meaning have been present all along and glowing since that first moment you laid eyes on them. As if you already knew them before you came to know them. As if some rift had bent time.
Sarah HallTag: love
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