ragulau

“bathing the windows with gold and spilling out into the streets. She could hear them—families gathering for dinner, plates clattering on the table. She could smell what they ate—garlic and tomato in the house below her, chicken with rosemary at the house across the street. The little girl who lived in the blue house on the corner rode up and dropped her bike on the sidewalk. She turned and looked up at the castle, and for a moment, their eyes locked on one another. The girl stared for an instant longer, and then ran up the steps and in the front door of her”
― Elizabeth Hall, Miramont's Ghost

“snow-laden branches drooped down overhead and sharp twigs plucked at the puffy sleeves of his down-filled parka. It was a far cry from his usual postings, where the worst impediments were sunstroke and scorpion bites. Even though it was technically early afternoon, the sun was so dim that the light stanchions, positioned every few yards along the pathway, were all switched on, providing an eerie glow. As Slater approached the cemetery gateposts, scrawled with their anonymous plea to “Forgive me,” he glanced over toward the promontory where he could see Groves and a Coast Guardsman, cloaked in their own hazmat suits, repositioning a jackhammer to loosen whatever frozen soil still remained at the parameters previously demarcated by Kozak. The strips of wet sod that had already been removed had been laid, according to Slater’s instructions, neatly to one”
― Robert Masello, The Romanov Cross

“either, though there was that. Mostly, he needed someone to hurt, and this group of five was all he had. Because about that, Cameron was right: There had been no Astrals since they’d left Cottonwood. Their absence had seemed lucky. But now, looking at Cameron, Andreus had to admit he’d always seen it as convenient as well. “We stop whining,” Andreus said, “and we start finding solutions.” “Just walk up there,”
― Sean Platt, Annihilation

“blur in my memory.” She wagged her head and clucked her tongue sadly, which I found very annoying. “Well, at least you’re better now. That’s what counts, right?” She shuffled through my file. “I see your doctor has filed a medical certificate for gym.” “Yeah.” “Okay, no problem. I’ll see that the nurse and Coach Procter get copies. And you have a prescription request, which has been approved. The nurse has to dispense medicine to you, but you probably already know that.” “Uh, yeah,” I said dryly. She seemed”
― Tom Upton, Plague House