October 2010
2 posts
2 tags
09
I leaned over the window, letting cool air fan the heat on my face. I could smell the alcohol on my skin, could feel my tongue heavy in my mouth. My heart ached in a way that it hadn’t for days, and when I felt his hand rest on my shoulder, gentle, soothing words urging me to step away from the window, I began to cry. “What’s wrong?” he asked, concern etched on his...
“[He] learned to laugh, and I learned to cry.”
– Mary Lennox, The Secret Garden (1993)