“When she was small, the daughter thought everyone’s life was like this. Your mother was the center of everything, the sun; your father was the faraway planet who opened into something wonderful only under the lights, while you sat in the dark, a spectator, and listened to words that only sounded like the words you knew. The ghosts were your soft and small friends, almost imaginary, skittering through the walls and along the ceiling. Clustering round your soul at night for warmth.”
– From ‘The Ghosts Eat More Air’ (in May We Shed These Human Bodies) by Amber Sparks
