Looking Glass

As she thought this, something inside her unknotted, some hurt she’d been holding on to for too long.

think that kind of mother you’re talking about doesn’t exist, not really. She’s only the idea of a mother, a perfect person who can’t be true.

You didn’t sprout from beneath a mushroom,” Alice said.

A tremendous crack of thunder shook the mountain. Alice heard rocks sliding from the cliffs above.

She sounded like a crow, cawing and cawing the same tune over again.

was because Alice felt the girl’s anguish burning in her own belly.

Alice laughed, a long reckless thing.

He was holding himself back at the highest cost, his feral nature hanging by the thinnest thread.

her tone dripping with contempt.

the woman was being consumed from within by some fever.