“Suddenly, she understands why people kill each other. Blinded by the worst neurotransmitter chemicals, anger pitching through her body, she approaches the driver's door without a plan. To her surprise, a toddler dozes in the backseat.
"You look exactly like the street," the driver repeats. "That's not my problem."
"Really?" She retorts. "You're going to dig your heels into an argument that's as obscene as it is idiotic?"
"Bitch," he says, then rolls up his window.
"You were not adequately loved," she says, then runs across the street to the gas station.”
― The Rabbit Hutch
"You look exactly like the street," the driver repeats. "That's not my problem."
"Really?" She retorts. "You're going to dig your heels into an argument that's as obscene as it is idiotic?"
"Bitch," he says, then rolls up his window.
"You were not adequately loved," she says, then runs across the street to the gas station.”
― The Rabbit Hutch
“The artist in me takes over and I see the entire horizon of my life shaded with the tone of her words.”
― Watermark
― Watermark
“He looks at her as though searching for an emotion he misplaced. Fervor, perhaps. Or affection. He has the appearance of a man who has weathered many internal sandstorms and whose convictions—once sharp and exquisite—have lost their definition. Observing James, Blandine is reminded of a swan she saw last February. It has resigned itself to a puddle in the parking lot of a megastore.”
― The Rabbit Hutch
― The Rabbit Hutch
“As the family party stepped out of the carriage, the novelty, freshness and beauty of the scene called forth a simultaneous burst of admiration. The little snow-white tents were dotted here and there through the woods, in beautiful contrast with the greenness of the foliage; groups of well-dressed and cheerful-looking men, women and children were walking about; over all smiled a morning sky of cloudless splendor.”
― The Hidden Hand
― The Hidden Hand
“On the opposite end of the sidewalk, a large woman in her sixties collapsed. Immediately, two people rushed to the woman's side, gingerly tending to her, touching her shoulders and face, speaking to her as though she were their mother—a cherished one—and Joan understood that human tenderness was not to be mocked. It was the last real thing.”
― The Rabbit Hutch
― The Rabbit Hutch
Ray’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Ray’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
More friends…
Favorite Genres
Polls voted on by Ray
Lists liked by Ray


































