My name. Ireland, it means, in a throaty sort of language, but this isn’t. Lyrical, but strong. Calm, like the sea that surrounds an island made of rock and empty promises. Home, it says, the land that raised me although miles away where the wind blows strong. Home, where grey is the theme and green is the ending. Vibrant, alive, yet long time dead ( Read more... )

"I'm tired of this place, anyway," she said, raising her eyes to his and brushing the hair off of her forehead to reveal a look he hadn't noticed before. He saw her now, really saw her, and it made her uncomfortable. She didn't like being looked at like something was missing. She looked away, pretending not to care, like the rock she was pushing ( Read more... )