It
by
It was the smell of something for which he had no name: the smell of It, crouched and lurking and ready to spring.
“Tell me the story..
About how the sun loved the moon so much..
That she died every night..
Just to let him breathe...”
―
About how the sun loved the moon so much..
That she died every night..
Just to let him breathe...”
―
“A part of us stayed like that: fearful of the world around us, and-no matter how much we despised ourselves for it-unable quite to let each other go.”
― Never Let Me Go
― Never Let Me Go
Kf’s 2024 Year in Books
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