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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
Writer
WAL
Tried
Moving
Beautiful
Caterpillar
Like
Caterpillars
Reached
Catch
Mouth
Mouths

More quotes by Lucy Christopher

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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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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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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.
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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.
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I want you to see that the person I glimpsed running beside the camel, running to save my life, is the person you can choose to be.
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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.
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I remember the lights turning into blurs of blazing fire. I remember the air-conditioning chilling my arms. The smell of coffee smudging into the smell of eucalyptus.
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Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.
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I love you, you said, simple as anything.
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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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It was like I’d stepped out into an afterlife. Only there were no angels.
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You're right, he's a killer, you said. A rooster with some serious issues.
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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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I was surprised at her gentleness, her willingness to give in.
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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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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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There were tiny stars behind my eyelids, a whole galaxy of tiny, spinning stars.
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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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Everyone wanted answers I wasn't ready to give.
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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.
Lucy Christopher