Part xii:

And the hunger stalks inside her paper skin like a wild beast; it rips her all to shreds so she feels as if her throbbing heart is exposed for all the world to mock, rubbed raw from Ian's terrifying silences. But still she does not eat. To eat would be to give in, to let the world win and bury her with all the oppressive weight of obscurity. But oh, how beautiful it is (!) when she resists the overwhelming urges of her body- she feels as if she is floating high above everything, so gorgeously pure and hollow. Evy feels divine then, like a whisper of smoke silhouetted against the moon, a word spoken softly in the dark from one lover to another…a first kiss.

Cass knows that Evy is too skinny.

'Evy,' he says, 'you are almost not there- when you turn sideways I can see the sky through you.'

Evy only shrugs her shoulders in response, and will not eat the wedge of tangerine that Cass offers her. Cass's face closes off then, and all the weight of Evy's unintentional suicide bears down on him so that the only thing left inside his head is humming static.

Later, when Charity take his hand, he only stares at her uncomprehendingly with blank rain-water eyes.

((author blurt)): As always, much love to Freya. Oh, and I lied. I still manage to break off on a few tangents here and there, like this….

Also, randomly, my sister just showed me a cartoon doodle she'd drawn of Shakespeare labeled as "The Great Shake'n'Bake." I don't know why it was quite that funny, but it made me crack up.