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Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.
Lucy Christopher
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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
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WAL
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Powerful
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Beautiful
Icy
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Blue
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Eyes
More quotes by Lucy Christopher
You're right, he's a killer, you said. A rooster with some serious issues.
Lucy Christopher
And it's hard to hate someone once you understand them.
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It was like I’d stepped out into an afterlife. Only there were no angels.
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You won't be able to hurt me, or touch me.
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It was so big, that view. I’ll never remember it properly. How can anyone remember something that big? I don’t think people’s brains are designed for memories like that. They’re designed for things like phone numbers, or the color of someone’s hair. Not hugeness.
Lucy Christopher
You nodded towards the cup. Want more? I shook my head. What about the car? Didn't find it. You were heading back towards me when I found you. Towards . . . ? You nodded. So I reckoned the car had probably got stuck or died somehow, and you were just coming home. Home? Yeah. Your mouth twitched. Back to me.
Lucy Christopher
In a moment, when I'm ready, I will turn off this computer and that will be it. This letter will be finished. A part of me doesn't want to stop writing to you, but I need to. For both of us.
Lucy Christopher
This be OK?' I asked, innocently. 'You want me to have no skin left?' You rolled your eyes. Actually, don't answer that one.
Lucy Christopher
How would she find her herd? How would she find you?
Lucy Christopher
The sand stretched out gray and ghostlike and illuminated, a column of light leading forward. It was like something a dead person would see, a tunnel leading toward heaven.
Lucy Christopher
Where are you going? I asked. The middle of nowhere. I thought this was it. Nah. You shook your head. This is just the edge.
Lucy Christopher
When the darkness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
Lucy Christopher
Everyone wanted answers I wasn't ready to give.
Lucy Christopher
It happened like this. I was stolen from an airport. Taken from everything I knew, everything I was used to. Taken to sand and heat, dirt and danger. And he expected me to love him. This is my story. A letter from nowhere.
Lucy Christopher
I didn’t want the person standing there, beside the bed, to have the same face I’d found so attractive at the airport. But you were there all right: the blue eyes, blondish hair, and tiny scar. Only you didn’t look beautiful this time. Just evil.
Lucy Christopher
The deep blue of your eyes had secrets. I wanted them.
Lucy Christopher
Had you been lying all along? Mum gently stroked my hair. I whispered into her shoulder. “I can’t go back. Not yet. I can’t leave.” And she held my head tight to her chest and wrapped her arms around me. “You don’t have to,” she said, rocking me. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, not anymore.” And I cried.
Lucy Christopher
But what else can I do, other than to plead with you like this? Other than to write down my story, our story, to show you that what you've done . . . to make you realize that what you did wasn't fair, wasn't right.
Lucy Christopher
I mean, that star over there is blinking at me madly now, but for how long? An hour or two, or for the next million years? And how long will we sit here like this? Just another moment, or the rest of our lives? You know which one I'd prefer.
Lucy Christopher
I chased money, pretended to be someone else to get it. It got easier the longer I did it... but that's the trap, see? When the deadness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
Lucy Christopher