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New rules—we needed new rules. No one opens the main doors but me. No one leaves the property without me. No one goes outside without letting me know. I had these horrible images in my head of kids being restrained against their wills, of kids crying my name out, begging me to help them when I was powerless. Desperate times… Lord, my soul called out. Lord…somehow that’s as far as I could get. I didn’t have the words. ↗
#glass-girl #government #laura-anderson-kurk #love #orphanage
That made her pause, almost made her want to laugh. She pushed her hair from her face. "God, we're fucked up, aren't we?" His tight features loosened a little. "Yeah, I've been trying to get over it most of my life. I guess I'd had myself talked into thinking I had." "Me, too. I'm sorry," she told him, her shoulders relaxing. "I didn't need to get so pissed off." He cracked a grin, "You did, though, didn't you? I kind of liked seeing you like that. All that fire. ↗
This is agony cried Mr Salteena clutching hold of a table my life will be sour grapes and ashes without you. ↗
Don’t you want to know what I did?” I could have killed her for all he knew. “Nope.” He motioned me to him. “Could you be anymore chivalrous?” I touched his face. He smiled. “I’d be anything you need me to be. That’s just who I am,” he said, he tilted his head up. ↗
I've yet to meet anyone who wants to accept it—but that’s pretty much what I’m supposed to do. Because in the end,and no matter how hard it is, acceptance helps people move on with the rest of their lives ↗
Don’t cry Meg. It’s not that bad.” “It’s not that bad? Ha! I’m thirty years old, with two black eyes, a swollen nose, a big, honking, yellow knot on my forehead, and the haircut from hell. As if that isn’t enough, I had a transvestite in my bed this morning, my husband is a lying, cheating, cradle robbing, bastard, who at some point slept with my best friend.” Jack scooted over to the middle of the seat, and stopped listening to his head and wrapped his arms around her. Big mistake! From inside, four faces were pressed to the window. “My last orgasm-with a partner- was…hell I can’t remember when! I frequently knock myself out for entertainment purposes, I have little boobs, big feet, squishy panties, nosy neighbors and demon possessed fish. God hates me!” Jack held her tighter. “I have frequent flyer miles at the hospital. I fed my husband marijuana Ex-lax brownies and shoved a marble up his butt.” Jack pulled away to look at her and she was serious. And crying. Big, sad, alligator tears that made his heart swell. “My mother is a holy rolling, Catholic Dr. Ruth, complete with condoms and Rosary beads. I write about relationships and sex, both of which I suck at and I hired a Private Investigator to pimp me out.” Jack burst out laughing and she pushed him away and swatted his shoulder. “And now you’re laughing at me. Could things get any worse? ↗
#love #meg-s-moment #love
They are embossed on every song that was a hit that summer, in every novel I read during and after his stay, on anything from the smell of rosemary on hot days to the frantic rattle of the cicadas in the afternoon—smells and sounds I’d grown up with and known every year of my life until then but that had suddenly turned on me and acquired an inflection forever colored by the events of that summer. ↗
#memory #summertime #love
