“The sun is a hammer. I can feel one side of my face start to cook. The blue sky is glossy and fat with heat, a few thin cirri sheared to blown strands like hair at the rims.”

“A few strands of his long, dark hair had been caught by the wind and blown against his face. Without thinking, she reached up and smoothed the strands away from his skin, wishing she could smooth away the pain etched there.”

“I roll onto my side and stare out the venetian blinds at the blue sky beyond. After a few minutes I'm lulled into a sort of peace. The sky, the sky--same as it always was.”

“Fat raindrops are starting to fall and no doubt it's only a matter of time before the sky is throwing buckets of water in my face.”

“I was breathless, talking as fast as I could. I was afraid if I stopped talking, even for a second, I’d start sobbing again.“Whoa, there.” Fang smiled and reached up, tracing a hand down the side of my face, winding strands of my hair around his fingers. “Stop talking and let me just tell you how great it is to wake up staring at your face. Okay?”

“When misfortune accumulated, I could feel now, it strafed you to the thinness of a nightgown, sheared you to the sheerness of a slip.”