I wanted to tell the book thief many things, about beauty and brutality. But what could I tell her about those things that she didn’t already know? I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race—that rarely do I ever simply estimate it. I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.

None of those things, however, came out of my mouth. All I was able to do was turn to Liesel Meminger and tell her the only truth I truly know. I said it to the book thief and I say it now to you.

I am haunted by humans.

Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Nightmares in the Day – A Short Story

“What do you see?” probed my mother with a worried look on her face, a look she failed to hide. It’s been weeks and I have grown tired of seeing things in the day time. Yes, day-time. The remnants from my nightmares born from fragmented pieces of sleep, becoming nightmares in the day. And I drag…

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