“My mother used to say that rain here pours like a blessing, like a thick veil that parts to reveal the bride's face. But nearly every day, when this rain parted, it revealed a long line of soldiers, like you, like death, marching toward us, and we would scatter with a practiced silence and hide.”

“Bursts of gold on lavender melting into saffron. It's the time of day when the sky looks like it has been spray-painted by a graffiti artist.”

“We stepped carefully, so softly, over thorny plants. The dust had turned to mud, splattering our shoes, socks, and legs. By the time we reached the boat, our clothes were clinging to our flesh and stained with the bloody remains of mosquitoes.”

“Our identity is like that of an onion; with each experience we endure, a layer is peeled away, finally revealing who we really are at the core.”

“Evie to Jake “Oh my God,” she breathes “Your boy part is like the Incredible Hulk.” Jake raises an eyebrow and asks “Boy part?” Evie nods and asks “Is he angry?” Jake answers “Not yet. But if you keep referring to him as a ‘boy part,’ he could get there. He’s all man. You don’t want to see him get angry.” Evie responds “Oh, I definitely want to see him get angry.”

“But in the end, there will still be a morning like this one, full of new light, and a distant voice will be heard, like a memory of before we became people. And the tones of a song will well up, the gentle lull of the first mother. This song, yes indeed, will be ours, the memory of a deep root that they were unable to wrench out of us. This voice will give us the strength for a new beginning, and upon hearing it, the corpses will find peace in their graves and the survivors will embrace life with the simple joy of young lovers. All this will happen if we are able to rid ourselves of this time that has made animals out of us. Let us strive to die like the people we no longer are.”

“Why are you looking at me? His eyes search mine for several long seconds before he holds contact and whispers, " Because I like your face.”