She knew that there were other parents in the streets nearby silently planning their terror runs, just like her, just then. This was reassuring, like a superstition, or a community. Hot magic-blue night. She said, ‘Whisper.’ ‘What if I’m scared?’ whispered Vito, who was eight. ‘Of the insects, maybe?’ ‘There is nothing to be […]
Briefly Very Beautiful
Roz Dineen
