Dad’s voice was a midnight school, teaching deep fathom hours, and the subject was life.
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His wife smiled in her sleep.
She’s immortal. She has a son.
Mr. Dark nodded, pleased. “What’s your name, boy?”
Don’t tell him! thought Will, and stopped. Why not? he wondered, why?
Jim’s lips hardly twitched.
“Simon,” he said.
He smiled to show it was a lie.
Mr. Dark smiled to show he knew it.
Evil has only the power that we give it.
Too late, I found you can’t wait to become perfect, you got to go out and fall down and get up again with everybody else.
That’s friendship, each playing the potter to see what shapes we can make of the other.