pastbedtimestories

“In the gaps between small things, Edwin could feel his quiescent magic like a single drop of blood in a bucket of water: more obvious than it deserved to be, given its volume. He could breathe into the knots in the back of his neck. And he could feel out the edges of the aching, yearning space in his life that no amount of quiet and no number of words had yet been able to fill.”
― Freya Marske, A Marvellous Light

“This conversation was about my dreams, not James’s mistakes.”
― Sarah Penner, The Lost Apothecary

“Men like Scott, men consumed by their egos and their desire to assert dominance at the top of hierarchies only they could see, didn’t have the capacity to set aside their petty aspirations even in the face of death.”
― S.A. Cosby, All the Sinners Bleed

“But then winter did what winter did: It grew darker, colder, crueler. In this case, wetter, too. Rain and ice more than snow. The wind was often biting. The skies, gray as a river-soaked corpse.”
― Chuck Wendig, Black River Orchard