“It felt as real as the dusty air she sucked in before and rushed out after.”

“It almost felt like she was sucking it all out of me, like she sucked on that sticky red lollipop, the one she kept licking as she drove.”

“There was no air; only the dead, still night fired by the dog days of August. Not a breath. I had to suck in the same air I exhaled, cupping it in my hands before it escaped. I felt it, in and out, less each time…until it was so thin it slipped through my fingers forever. I mean, forever.”

“Before she knew it, she was just another set of eyes in a dusty attic, waiting for the stairs to creak.”

“It dances on the air for a moment before it falls, too. A fresh gust of wind almost saves it, but a worker catches sight of it and lifts a tube up to suck the paper from the air, to suck the words from the sky.I'm sorry, Grandfather.”

“She sucked in air as if the only reason for her to breathe was to expel pain.”