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d833624
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When you're a kid, it's hard to tell the innocuous secrets from the ones that will kill you if you keep them.
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karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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44b0831
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There are certain prehistoric things that swim beyond extinction.
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karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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f723835
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Any place, then, can become a cemetery. All it takes is your body. It's not fair, I think, and I get this petulant wish for ugly flowers and mourners, my mother's old familiar grief. Somebody I love to tend my future grave. Probably this is the wrong thing to be wishing for.
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occurrence-00-422
karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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4e79680
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It's go time.' He takes my elbow and gentles me down the planks with such tenderness that I am suddenly very afraid. But there's no sense making the plunge slow and unbearable. I take a running leap down the pier- ... -and launch over the water. It's my favorite moment: when I'm one toe away from flight and my body takes over. The choice is made, but the consequence is still just an inky shimmer beneath me. And I'm flying, I'm rushing to meet my own reflection-
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karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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288c0b1
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I swim with all my strength. No superhuman surge, or pony heroics; it's just me at my most desperate.
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karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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32656c5
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We sang at the chapel annexed to the home every morning. We understood that this was the humans' moon, the place for howling beyond purpose. Not for mating, not for hunting, not for fighting, not for anything but the sound itself. And we'd howl along with the choir, hurling every pitted thing within us at the stained glass.
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st-lucys-home
karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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ef7f19e
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There's something pitiable and terrifying about the unconscious bully. His crumpled nose and hat. ... This is the first true thing that Brauser and I have ever shared, this fear, besides dog-eared songbooks and cafeteria noodles. I wonder, briefly, if I could eat Brauser if it came to that. At this point, we have been alone on the glacier for fourteen minutes.
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occurrence-00-422
karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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acfe606
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We keep giggling, happy and nervous, tickled by an incomplete innocence. We both sense that some dark joke is being played on us, even if we can't quite grasp the punch line.
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karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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6037413
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Could we betray our parents by going back to them?
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st-lucys-home
karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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dbfd5b3
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On Sundays, the pretending felt almost as natural as nature. The chapel was our favorite place. Long before we could understand what the priest was saying, the music instructed us in how to feel.
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st-lucys-home
karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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afa908f
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My fingers curl through the holes in the wicker, through the wet grass beneath it, trying to hold tight to the sharp blades of the present. Somewhere in my brain a sinkhole is bubbling over, and each bubble contains a scene from a tiny sunken world ... I have never been the prophet of my own past before. It makes me wonder how the healthy dreamers can bear to sleep at all, if sleep means that you have to peer into that sinkhole by yourself. ... I had almost forgotten this occipital sorrow, the way you are so alone with the things you see in dreams.
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sleep-away-camp
karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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427064b
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I could have warned her. If we were back home, and Mirabella had come under attack by territorial beavers or snow-blind bears, I would have warned her. But the truth is that by Stage 3 I wanted her gone. Mirabella's inability to adapt was taking a visible toll. Her teeth were ground down to nubbins; her hair was falling out. ... her ribs were poking through her uniform. Her bright eyes had dulled to a sour whiskey color. But you couldn't show Mirabella the slightest kindness anymore-she'd never leave you alone!
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st-lucys-home
karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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3927078
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"She was still loping around on all fours, her fists blue-white from the strain. As if she were holding a secret tight to the ground. Sister Maria de la Guardia would sigh every time she saw her. " " She'd sit down with Mirabella and pry her fingers apart. "You see?" she'd say softly, again and again. "What are you holding on to? Nothing, little one. Nothing."
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st-lucys-home
karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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5a724c7
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Etiquette was so confounding in this country. Still, looking at Mirabella-her fists balled together like small, white porcupines, her brows knitted in animal confusion-I felt a throb of compassion. I wondered. Then I congragulated myself. This was a Stage 3 thought.
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st-lucys-home
karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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4cb7a8b
|
"We know that Rangi can at least mutter because Digger Gibson says he used to talk to the bear. In his group home for orphaned Moa boys, Rangi had a pet cinnamon bear. I saw her once. She was just a wet-nosed cub, a cuff of pure white around her neck. Rangi found her on the banks of the Waitiki River and walked her around on a leash. He filed her claws and fed her tiny, smelly fishes. They shot her the day his new father, Digger, came to pick him up. "Burying that bear," I overheard Digger tell Mr. Oamaru once. "The first thing we ever did together as father and son." Rangi's given us this global silent treatment ever since, a silence he extends to people, animals, ice."
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occurrence-00-422
karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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7c43abd
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It's unclear whether Brauser was trying to hit Franz Josef or Rangi. I hope it was the former. There's one difference between a bully and a hero, I guess: good aim.
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occurrence-00-422
karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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1c118eb
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Granana lives on the other side of the island. She's eighty-four, I'm twelve, and Wallow's fourteen, so it's a little ambiguous as to who's babysitting whom.
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karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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345bcbb
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I had an ear for languages, and I could read before I could adequately wash myself. I probably could have vied with Jeanette for the number one spot, but I'd seen what happened if you gave in to your natural aptitudes. This wasn't like the woods, where you had to be your fastest and your strongest and your bravest self. Different sorts of calculations were required to survive at the home.
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st-lucys-home
karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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59b8cec
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I had been eagerly waiting just such a disaster. Storms, wolves, snakebite, floods-these are the occasions to find out how your father sees you, how strong and necessary he thinks you are.
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karen-russell
westward-migration
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Karen Russell |
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304d9ba
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The lake water was reinventing the forest and the white moon above it, and wolves lapped up the cold reflection of the sky.
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st-lucys-home
karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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4365cf1
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I ignored her and continued down the hall. I had only four more hours to perfect the Sausalito. I was worried only about myself. By that stage, I was no longer certain of how the pack felt about anything.
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st-lucys-home
karen-russell
|
Karen Russell |
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ed46487
|
He looks me to pieces ... I realize now that I have been glimpsed and corner-of-the-eyed before, by the Chief and my sister and the yawning tourists. But I have never actually been looked at. Not like this.
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looks
seeing
looking
male-gaze
seeing-people
staring
karen-russell
|
Karen Russell |
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62044cf
|
"The Avalanche," peacemaker Rachel recites, "is . It's a privilege to sing it. It's a celebration of our past." Everybody around the table smiles at her. "Yeah? Well, I've seen how easily the past can get rewritten." I glare at Mr. Oamaru. "Lyrics change. New authors come along."
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occurrence-00-422
karen-russell
|
Karen Russell |
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0d61f8e
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Even at this altitude, the substitute pilot's bathed in sweat, sweat running down his chin and neck. Fear must be the fountain of youth, because the substitute pilot now looks younger than any of us, doughy and flushed with horror.
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occurrence-00-422
karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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c141244
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i haf the sownd of more words butt i coud not remember the shaps of the letters.
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karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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b858cb2
|
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occurrence-00-422
karen-russell
|
Bear Grylls |
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f3b65a1
|
I wish I could say I gulp pure courage as I run, like those brave little girls you read about in stories, ... But this burst of speed comes from an older adrenaline, some limbic other. Not courage, but a deeper terror. I don't want to be left alone. And I am ready to defend Ossie against whatever monster I encounter, ... and save her for myself.
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karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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acaab88
|
"I just want to tell her that I'm sorry," Wallow says softly. He doesn't know that I'm awake. He's talking to himself, or maybe to the ocean. There's not a trace of fear in his voice. And it's clear then that Wallow is a better brother than I could ever hope to be."
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karen-russell
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Karen Russell |
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15cba98
|
Far away, I can hear Mouflon, our last sheep, bleating in the dark. I wonder if Annie is still out to protect her, still scouring the woods in barefoot pursuit of those dogs. I feel sorry for Annie, alone with a rabid pack of her own delusions. I feel sorrier for Mouflon. She's alone with Annie.
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sleep-away-camp
karen-russell
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Karen Russell |