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I remember that feeling of skin. It's strange to remember touch more than thought. But my fingers still tingle with it.
Lucy Christopher
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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
Writer
WAL
Touch
Strange
Feeling
Feelings
Thought
Tingle
Stills
Skin
Remember
Skins
Still
Fingers
More quotes by 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.
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If there'd been an astronaut on the moon right then, I'm sure I could have seen him. Perhaps he could have looked down and seen me too... the only one who could.
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I didn’t look back, but I knew you were still watching. It probably sounds weird, but I could just feel it. The hairs on my neck bristled when you blinked.
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You won't be able to hurt me, or touch me.
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It sounded weird to hear you talk so much normally you only said a few words at a time. I'd never imagined that you'd have a story, too. Until that moment, you were just the kidnapper. You didn't have reasons for anything. You were stupid and evil and mentally ill. That was all. When you started talking, you started changing.
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.
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How would she find her herd? How would she find you?
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Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.
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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.
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You smiled then, and your whole face changed with it. It kind of lit up, like there were sunbeams coming from inside you.
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There were tiny stars behind my eyelids, a whole galaxy of tiny, spinning stars.
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This be OK?' I asked, innocently. 'You want me to have no skin left?' You rolled your eyes. Actually, don't answer that one.
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The deep blue of your eyes had secrets. I wanted them.
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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.
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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.
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It was like I’d stepped out into an afterlife. Only there were no angels.
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I thought you wanted to catch a camel, you tried again. No. I want to. Well, you go then. You laughed. I want your beautiful face where I can see it
Lucy Christopher
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.
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When the darkness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
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Your beautiful mouth was moving like a caterpillar. I reached out and tried to catch it.
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