“We don’t talk; it’s family night, not miracle night.”

“It’s disgusting. They melted my girl down and poured her into their mold. And this perversion is what she cooled into. I can’t be near her. Can’t see her, smell her, hear her voice chirping like a bird.I tell her the same thing I’ve been whispering every night on the roof. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

“I run my hands down her bare arms. Shoulders to elbows to wrists. She has goose bumps, even in the muggy Florida night. Maybe that’s because of me.Sometimes I forget she likes me the same way I like her.”

“But I can’t leave, not yet. I’ll stay with her until sunrise. If I brace my feet, I won’t slide. I can rest my cheek on the roof tile and still see her. Pacing. Pulling her hair. “I’ll fix you,” I tell her. “I promise.” Even though I don’t know how.It’s better than good-bye.”

“You have points on the tip of your ears." she tilts her head and stares at me." like a big, tall elf.”

“she drew me. But not who I see in the mirror. Nia saw the Oscar i keep hidden. And she put him on paper. Nobody sees the real me.”

“Cookie!" The kid holds up a carrot with the feathery green still attached to the top. "Seriously?" The woman gives me a wide-eyed don't say anything look and walks away fast.”