| Link | Quote | Stars | Tags | Author |
| b11e4e2 | And then, in a skittering, chittering rush, it came. The hand, running high on its fingertips, scrabbled through the tall grass and up onto a tree stump. It stood there for a moment, like crab tasting the air, and then it made one triumphant, nail-clacking leap onto the center of the tablecloth. Time slowed for Coraline. The white fingers closed around the black key.... | the-other-mother hand fright searching | Neil Gaiman |