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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.

Lucy Christopher

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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
Writer
WAL
Someone
Deeper
Gets
Becoming
Deadness
Easier
Chased
Longer
Pretended
Dead
Sinking
Money
Trap
Else
Traps

More quotes by Lucy Christopher

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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.
Lucy Christopher
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Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.
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When the darkness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
Lucy Christopher
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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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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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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.
Lucy Christopher
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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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Your beautiful mouth was moving like a caterpillar. I reached out and tried to catch it.
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It was like I’d stepped out into an afterlife. Only there were no angels.
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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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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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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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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
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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.
Lucy Christopher
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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.
Lucy Christopher
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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
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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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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
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There were tiny stars behind my eyelids, a whole galaxy of tiny, spinning stars.
Lucy Christopher