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How to Commit the Perfect Murder was an old game in heaven. I always chose the icicle: the weapon melts away.

Alice Sebold

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Alice Sebold
Age: 62
Born: 1962
Born: September 6
Novelist
Writer
Madison
Wisconsin
Murder
Weapons
Game
Icicle
Games
Icicles
Heaven
Melts
Perfect
Chose
Away
Weapon
Always
Commit

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Because horror on Earth is real and it is every day. It is like a flower or like the sun it cannot be contained.
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Out loud I said I had two children. Silently I said three. I always felt like apologizing to her for that.
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I would do exactly what you are doing: I would talk to everyone I needed to, I would not tell too many people his name. When I was sure, she said, I would find a quiet way, and I would kill him.
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Since then I've always thought that under rape in the dictionary it should tell the truth. It is not just forcible intercourse rape means to inhabit and destroy everything.
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Your first kiss is destiny knocking.
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I was trying to prove to them and to myself that I was still who I had always been. I was beautiful, if fat. I was smart, if loud. I was good, if ruined.
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I have never been shy about listening to the input of others and weighing it seriously.
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Every day a question mark.
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I like gardening - it's a place where I find myself when I need to lose myself.
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Hold still, my father would say, while I held the ship in the bottle and he burned away the strings he'd raised the mast with and set the clipper ship free on its blue putty sea. And I would wait for him, recognizing the tension of that moment when the world in the bottle depended, solely, on me.
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She liked to imagine that when she passed, the world looked after her, but she also knew how anonymous she was. Except when she was at work, no one knew where she was at any time of day and no one waited for her. It was immaculate anonymity.
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Who would have thought something that happened that long ago could have such power?
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Well, as my dad would say, it means she’s out of this shithole.
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When I was raped I lost my virginity and almost lost my life. I also discarded certain assumptions I had held about how the world worked and about how safe I was.
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But I know I would not go out. I had taken this time to fall in love instead — in love with the sort of helplessness I had not felt in death — the helplessness of being alive, the dark bright pity of being human — feeling as you went, groping in corners and opening your arms to light - all of it part of navigating the unknown.
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I forgive you, I said. I said what I had to. I would die by pieces to save myself from real death.
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The alcohol had the effect of making the black cloth blacker. This amused her she had noted in her journal: booze affects material as it does people.
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I missed her then but it was an odd sort of missing because by then, I knew the meaning of forever.
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Murder had a blood red door on the other side of which was everything unimaginable to everyone.
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These things, she felt, were not to be passed around like disingenuous party favors. She kept an honor code with her journals and her poems. 'Inside, inside,' she would whisper quietly to herself when she felt the urge to tell.
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