Christina Henry

Alice was tall and blue-eyed and a little broken inside, but her companion didn’t mind because his insides were more

jumbled than hers could ever be.

stumbling toward a future that would let them leave their past in the past.

Alice suspected that there was guilt and anger and helplessness all churned up inside him, and these feelings mixed with his dreams of blood

Occasionally it seemed that her body was actively working against her progress.

“It’s easy to forget the good things,” Hatcher said,

the full scorch of the sun made the shirt and jacket and heavy trousers Alice wore cling to her skin, which resulted in her being more cross and more uncomfortable than she already was.

the hot wind lazily blowing it in little swirls and eddies.

buzzing that preceded them ground in Alice’s skull.

He’d forgotten his daughter and remembered her again, and now he was clutching for any hint or hope of her.