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Quote by Stephanie Zen

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Summer Sky

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Stephanie Zen

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“Mother Marrow gestures to the soup, and I, who can afford no more enemies, bring it to my lips. It tastes of a memory I cannot quite place, warm afternoons and splashing in pools and kicking plastic toys across the brown grass of summer lawns. Tears spring to my eyes. I want to spill it out in to the dirt. I want to drink it down to the dregs.”

MemoriesSummerMemoryHolly BlackSoupThe Folk Of The AirJude DuarteJudeThe Wicked KingMother Marrow
Book:The Wicked King
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“The Tract, which had been too busy fighting its own battles. . .to worry about Europe, was trying now in a single evening to anticipate wounds and bullets, losses and hatreds. In the moments in which they were able to do so, sudden silences, like a thickening of night's darkness, would settle upon the crowd. Though the air on the skin was as warm as summer, there was no summer for the ear, no summer sounds of katydids and locusts, cicadas and crickets. War had come overnight, but a real summer has to ripen. A war can be thought up, anyone can declare it, and death can be instant. But no amount of thought has ever produced a katydid, life cannot be declared, and summer takes a little time.”

WarSummerWoundsBulletsKatydids
Book:South of the Angels
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