“No blinding light or tunnels to gates of whiteJust our hands clasped so tight waiting for the hint of a spark”

“Don't wait for a light to appear at the end of the tunnel, stride down there and light the bloody thing yourself.”

“Wait,  Cat,”  I  say,  reaching blindly for her arm, as if I could possibly make this anymore awkward. (Hint: apparently, I can.)”

“United by their clasped hands, they became again the two halves, the light and the dark. The Destroyer and the Savior. A whole.”

“Against all odds and despite all evidence to the contrary, still we trust that there will be a light at the end of the tunnel, of our personal tunnel anyway.”

“Has the dark shadow really disappeared?Or is it inside me, concealed, waiting for its chance to reappear?Like a clever thief hidden inside a house, breathing quietly, waiting until everyone’s asleep. I have looked deep inside myself, trying to detect something that might be there. But just as our consciousness is a maze, so too is our body. Everywhere you turn there’s darkness, and a blind spot. Everywhere you find silent hints, everywhere a surprise is waiting for you.”