One for My Enemy by Olivie Blake
It is 11 PM on 12-31 and I am undrafting all my drafts. This is the last I have the energy for. I'm too tired to say anything more than enjoy these quotes. I did.
...somehow, I think I should just get used to it. We can't curse all the men in the world, can we?"
"Not in a single day, at least," Mrya replied.
"Everyone will always ask you for something, " she told them, "and ghosts are no exception."
The irony of new moons, of beginnings in general, is that they are always begun with total blindness. No orb of light for guidance. No promise of the future, good or bad.
"Your constant barrage of whimsy exhausts me."
"Dima," she rsaid softly. "You know Stas never took your place." He swallowed, saying nothing. "how could he?" she pressed him. "you were all I ever wanted. From the day you told me you loved me, there has never been anyone else."
Faith was an unwise extension of hope, which was nearly always dashed, destroyed, burned on a pyre of routine and almost unvarying disappointment.
There was no point sharing truth with fae; they didn't know what to do with it. They liked their own imaginations more.
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