Sara Barkat

“Then, taking his hat and shoving it onto his head, he would rush out into the mass of busy people and all at once look nothing at all like Father anymore: in fact, if it were not for the particular way his hat had been squished ever since one of her wooden animals sat on it, Shelley would hardly have been able to tell his brown-coated figure from anyone else’s.”
― Sara Barkat, The Shivering Ground & Other Stories

“-You see, I have it within me still,” you said, and opened your pocket and pulled out a piece of sheet music, the black calligraphy in its careful, blocky dots making the whole thing look like paving stones on a log road. The calligraphy went on and on, and you pulled the entire song out from your skin where you’d kept it, just in case your friend wanted to see it again.”
― Sara Barkat, The Shivering Ground & Other Stories