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Coming to Grips with the Mountains and Valleys of This World

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Gift Gugu Mona

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“The scent of my blood was mesmerizing in its intensity, a luscious, potent, ethereal haze that clung to the walls of the bathroom. It was far more intense than the opening of the vial itself. It was like a thousand ruby red vials. A million. It filled the room like an actual presence, and it dawned on us both at the same time that my blood not only contained the scent, but was the scent itself. Leather, like warm Egyptian incense, like a dark library in an old city. Jasmine, like the sweet, sweet scent of decay. Fire, like hot darkness. And red velvet rose, like a sheath of light and lilting femininity.”

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“I walked out just like her, you bitch. If I walked out, it would be my condemnation of him. I would be the reason he gave up and put a gun to his head and fed the blood-lusting mud of Bodymore. I don’t know what it is about this place that makes people desperate. Desperate for a future. Desperate for money. Desperate for someone else. It’s always everything we don’t have that’s going to solve that desperation.”

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“[I]n that white flower I was reminded of the blossoms I had grown up with...[I]t seemed the loveliest thing I had seen for many days, and I stood there staring at it. But as I continued stumbling over to the creek, I saw that the flower was no flower at all but rather a crumple of tissue, at its heart a smear of blood. I felt a sort of fury - first, rightly, that Esme should be so careless with disposing of her own trash, and second (and I admit less defensibly), that she should have spoiled for me an image so soothing.”

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“The sword pierced the general’s neck before he registered the movement. “Just a child!” His mind screamed as the blade bit deeper. “Just a child!” The blade chinked against his spine, a sound he refused to accept, a sound he had heard too often not to recognise. “Just a child!” His sight faltered, disappeared, all life vanishing in one sharp spurt of pain. “Just a child!” as Raziel damned his soul to hell.”

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“Sometimes, she felt like both of them were damned no matter what they did, good or bad. That any choice they made led to ruin. But she couldn't let herself think that way. There's always a way to victory. Always a path to survival. Maybe it was ugly and painted in blood and grief, but it was there. She believed it. She had to believe it." •pg.199 - Nita's thoughts”

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Book:When Villains Rise
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