On tiptoes the redhead wouldn't even reach my shoulders; she is clearly too young to be a bride. And the willowy girl is too forlorn. And I am too unwilling. Yet here we are. — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
I stare at her collarbone that's framed with lace, the hollow of her throat, her shoulders that rise with each rise with the weight of her next breath. We're fragile things. Our bones show through our skin. What would any… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
“I watch the perfectly imperfect people several stories below, living their perfectly imperfect lives, and I think about how many decades will have to… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
You have a way of looking at things. You make it seem as though everything's going to be okay. I can't imagine a more… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
He says one word, nodding into the daylight. "Look." It's an astounding word. It's a gift. — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
“Rhine: It's okay that you miss her. She was the love of your life. Linden: Not the only love. It feels wrong to think… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
“She strokes my cheeks with the side of her hand – a repetitive, wispy motion. Like little ghost kisses.” — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
I've done it all before, I tell myself, and I can do it again. Trust is the strongest weapon. — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
“Now isn't the time to be angry with my brother, but I suppose the anger I feel for him never goes away. I cover… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
I see an ocean that’s spilled out of a wineglass, its body clear and sparkling and folding over itself. I see a ribbon of… — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
Maybe what frightens us about the edge isn't our fear of morality, but the thoughts it leads us to have. — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
“This isn’t living, what all of us are doing. We drive down long, dilapidated back roads.” — Lauren DeStefano Copy Share Image
