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Hourglass in Grace
Eric Overby
Top 10 Best Quotes
“Waves wash over her like the edge of the sea and the only thing she has left are the shadows of his memory”
“There are moments, if you look for them, where a decision is made that alters the contents of your life and how it ends”
“She wrote his name on a piece of paper and lit it with a match. The letters curled as they turned dark and misshapen until she didn’t recognize them. They were figments of something that she had done in her past, lost into some other form of existence.”
“with a handful of pills in the depths of the night, she dreamed she held the moon still on a string like a kite”
“powerless and bold in the darkness and cold, she was the last thing that she could control”
“What was the last thing he’d said to her? It’s on the tip of her tongue, She can’t remember what she’d heard, Vowels ripped and consonants undone, Stuck in the space between words, Muted language that refuses to come”
“What was she left with but ashes and darkness once the light of the flame went out? The smell of smoke lingered like a memory of him.”
“The night stands still and frozen In a cold December frost, Stars close in on her life; Even in the infinite space, she’s lost”
“She wrote his name on a piece of paper and lit it with a match. The letters curled as they turned dark and misshapen until she didn’t recognize them. They were figments of something that she had done in her past, lost into some other form of existence. Where did the letters go now? She tried to find traces within the ash of some resemblance of what used to be. She dug down, her fingers turning black and gray like the depths of her. He was gone. Gone. What was she left with but ashes and darkness once the light of the flame went out? The smell of smoke lingered like a memory of him. Was this the end or could she write a new word? Not a new name, not his name, but could she call a new word into existence? A new piece of HER; a new reason for her existence? Picking up the permanent marker, Amy placed it in her pocket for later. Ashes blow in the creek bed and blend with the stream, moving down like sand in an hourglass.”
“He was her rock, now he’s dates on a stone next to trees on a plot in a spot far from home”
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