“Then she smiles, like it'sthe first time she's seen sunafter a decade of winters.”

“She's never sure,never knows,never goes.”

“Instead,she's as stillas a leaf-littered pond,dark water evaporating,waiting desperately for rain.”

“If I let him touch me,it'd be like openinga one-waytelepathic tunnel.”

“The telly is invadedby hallelujah channelsand informercials,both trying to selleverything neededto save you.”

“They scribble on notepads,the sound of their pensscratching the judgemental air.”

“I want out of this place.With no reminders."It stings -sulphur tearsin cinnamon rain.”