Tag: ann_petry

All you need for the rest of your life is a camera.
Is it that they speak in unknown tongues?
I knew that was you before I looked.
He had moved closer to her.
I don’t know what to do, she thought.
People stopped and stared and wondered at the sight.
Nobody had ever known what he meant by it.
Don’t let it go. Keep it there. All right so far.
Hold everything still inside of you.
There were a few stars still in the sky.
Making you jump, startled, because it didn’t belong there.
I’ve got wonderful things to tell you and to show you, listen to me.
During the day lean cats napped in the dense shade.
The signs tell the story of the change.
You’ve lost the right to interfere.
She was accustomed to darkness.
The only thing she could do was to go away and never come back.
Ten minutes’ talk will straighten it out.
There wasn’t anything to work out.
Maybe we can work out something.
Right now she couldn’t even think straight, couldn’t even see straight.
It was inside her head and she couldn’t get it out.
She could still hear that floating, drifting tune.
There was the ebb and flow of talk and laughter.
She polished one pane of glass over and over.
She kept listening to the silence.
It was so deadly quiet.
There were so many things she hadn’t said to him.
It was like trying to look into the future.
Her thoughts kept twisting and turning.
That would be his story, and it was a good one.
She knew she would never be safe here again.