She perched on her windowsill, gazing at the lurid sun soaking into the Caldera, trying to appreciate it even though she couldn’t have it. Why did she always feel she had to do something in the face of beauty? — Ann Brashares Copy Share Image
“She was perched on the windowsill. The brilliant light didn’t seem to bother her. I could just see her thinking to herself that if she soaked in enough light, maybe, just maybe, all the darkness in her life would fade.” — Calia Read Copy Share Image
