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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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Everyone wanted answers I wasn't ready to give.
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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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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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It was like I’d stepped out into an afterlife. Only there were no angels.
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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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You won't be able to hurt me, or touch me.
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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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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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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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I was surprised at her gentleness, her willingness to give in.
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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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I remember that feeling of skin. It's strange to remember touch more than thought. But my fingers still tingle with it.
Lucy Christopher