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“the quality of the light had changed, and things stood out in a kind of dreamlike steely relief. . .the quality of this light seemed so familiar…”

Grownups are the real monsters, he thought. It was no big deal, not a thought that came in a revelatory flash or announced itself with trumpets and bells. It just came and was gone. . .

“he thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts.”

Do you think you’re the only person who ever came here hunting for souvenirs?

“All these pictures, snapped by lost somebodies for lost reasons, locked up here in a dead boy's album of photographs.”

So now you know how fear tastes, he thought. Time you found out, considering all you’ve written on the subject.

“Home is the place where when you go there, you have to finally face the thing in the dark.”