"Okay, but the afterlife? It's nothing like it looks in the movies. It's a lot more forgiving than that, for which I guess I'm thankful. I died early on a Saturday morning wearing an old pair of H&M tights under an oversize Hot Chelle Rae T-shirt I had jury-rigged into a minidress. I was wearing…
'"I've chased a lot of hurricanes." Sebastian pulls me to him, my back flush against his front, and his arm folded over the top of my chest. "But I've never been directly in the eye. It's..." "Mesmerizing," I finish for him. "It's cruel how something so destructive can be so alarmingly peaceful. God, it's beautiful.…
'"Do you know the word?" Alexander felt himself in danger of blushing. He had done or witnessed just about every possible act that might call for embarrassment, yet he could not remember a single previous instance of blushing. Never had a woman--nay, any person--made him feel so off-balance. It was as if he were the…
"A little blood runs down my neck, I rub at it. "That's not very saintly of you," I say. Her bite does not pain me overly much, but the shock of it has loosened my tongue. "'Tis thine own fault for believing me some meek, martyred maid. Now heed me, you wretched wench: On the…
'"What? Oh." A pause; Amira has never seen a river. "No--it's nothing like that when they fly above you. It's...a creaking, like a stove door with no squeak in it, as if the geese are machines dressed in flesh and feathers. It's a beautiful sound--beneath the honking it's a low drone, but if they're flying…
"The girls looked just like me: freckled, narrow faces, soil-dark hair, expressions prone to penetrating seriousness. Catch one of us in a pouting moment, and you'd be forgiven for summoning images of some sixteenth-century martyr on a hunger strike. As for the boys, they looked like Caleb: ruddy cheeks, big toothy smiles. When they were…
"What a lovely home I found myself plummeting toward, acquiring, as I fell, arms, hands, legs, feet, all of which, as usual, became more substantial with each passing second. Below: a fountain. At the center of the fountain: a gold-plated statue. Of a dog. (Someone must have really loved that dog.) In the mouth of…
"I like being older. I'd rather be me now, than me any age prior. But there is this heaviness to aging. Who I am was built on the shoulders of the person I was last year, and the year before, and before, and before. I'm not just thirty-three; I'm twenty-seven. I'm eighteen. I'm nine. I…
Wow, has the snow been falling, and falling with panache at that! This winter wonderland (or snowy wasteland, depending on who's asking) is definitely here to stay. It's only when I'm able to grab a sweet, warm treat for my troubles do I find the courage to step outside. Despite my aversion to the chill,…
"In August, when every self-respecting Roman left the city, he stayed behind and worked out the formulas for the dyes he will use for three thousand costumes, each one of them hand-tailored. Vats of onion skin and marigold, woad and madder. If Federico is the maestro, he is the magician, stirring his cauldron in the…
