Join 📚 Carla's Highlights
A batch of the best highlights from what Carla's read, .
The lightning arrives between us in one blinding, insane moment as the storm of ghosts blasts its all-embracing fury into my heart.
A Choir of Ill Children
Tom Piccirilli
The seasons long for each other, like men and women, in order that they may be cured of their excesses. Spring, if it lingers more than a week beyond its span, starts to hunger for summer to end the days of perpetual promise. Summer in its turn soon begins to sweat for something to quench its heat, and the mellowest of autumns will tire of gentility at last, and ache for a quick sharp frost to kill its fruitfulness. Even winter—the hardest season, the most implacable—dreams, as February creeps on, of the flame that will presently melt it away. Everything tires with time, and starts to seek some opposition, to save it from itself.
The Hellbound Heart
Clive Barker
Then—a sudden sickness, a reverse nausea, the sickness of something good and necessary going out.
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