Within her simple, terrified mind, swift calculations of distance and speed were at work, and her face advertised the disappointing results.

The boy raised the can to his nose and smelled, his lips wrinkling back as if he'd caught the business end of a skunk.

They rolled up the path, tree branches raking the windshield like angry wardens.

The driver watched the young female figure approach within his rearview mirror, unable to discern more than superficial characteristics. As she grew closer, he saw the mud streaks and torn clothing, and within her eyes, he saw an emptiness where something beautiful might once have dwelled. A thing not lost, but taken, abruptly and without warning, using method so thorough as to alter a soul.

He looked like a thing broken loose from a bedtime story, something unreal ... The giant watched her from above with a bizarre contemplation, his head tilted acrook, as if he'd snared some exquisite fairy from a storybook tale his own.

I want to feel embarrassed by my desperation but I’m too busy feeling desperate.