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Your beautiful mouth was moving like a caterpillar. I reached out and tried to catch it.
Lucy Christopher
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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
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WAL
Catch
Mouth
Mouths
Tried
Moving
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Caterpillar
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More quotes by Lucy Christopher
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 could hear you, talking to the daffodils and tulips, whispering to the fairies that lived inside their petals. Each separate flower had a different family inside it.
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There is no need to put your heart in a bottle, then you will die. - Ty from Stolen
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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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Doesn't that hurt? I said. Yep. How do you keep them in there? I'm stubborn. You grinned. Stubborn as a waddywood. And anyway, pain means it's healing. Not always.
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I was surprised at her gentleness, her willingness to give in.
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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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It was like I’d stepped out into an afterlife. Only there were no angels.
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The people we care for aren't always the one we should
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The land wants you here. I want you here, you called. Don't you care about that at all?
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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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Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.
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The deep blue of your eyes had secrets. I wanted them.
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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.
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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.
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You looked at me, your eyes huge. You we're like a dog then, waiting for me to throw you a bone . . . waiting for something I could never give you.
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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.
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I love you, you said, simple as anything.
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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
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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.
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