Let us be greedy together; let us hoard. Let us hit each other with birch branches and lock each other in dungeons; let us drink each other’s blood in the night and betray each other...
—Catherynne M.
Just tell yourself a story that’ll satisfy you and pretend he told it.
She knew herself, how she had slowly, over years, become a cat, a wolf, a snake, anything but a girl. How she had wrung out her girlhood like death.
Just remember that the only question in a house is who is to rule. The rest is only dancing around that, trying not to look it in the eye.
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