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I was in seventh grade at St. Matthew's. The teachers would tell me, 'God loves you,' and then whack a ruler across my hand. 'Well,' I'd say, 'if God loves me, can you call God? Can you ask Him if it's all right that I didn't do my homework? If it's not, then let Him hit me.' ↗
When she first saw him, she took him for a ghost. His jet-black hair fluttered in the breeze as he walked, letting her see his eyes. They seemed haunted, lost in some way. He was tall and gaunt, starkly pale in his black clothes. He was the very picture of Anton, even sharing his world-weary eyes of deepest blue. She could hardly look away from this apparition, an echo of all the memories and dreams that had haunted her these many years. ↗
