Great. Now I Have To Go Back

Fire Beats Roses Again.

But Don't Worry; As I've Been Saying - And This Has Been Very Clever Of Me, I'm Sure You'll Agree - If You Put Enough Pressure On Coal, It'll Turn To Pearls!

The Pain Over My Heart Returns, And From It I Imagine Tiny Fissures Spreading Out Into My Body. Through My Torso, Down My Arms And Legs, Over My Face, Leaving It Crisscrossed With Cracks. One Good Jolt...and I Could Shatter Into Strange Razor-sharp Shards.

But It's Posy, Gale's Five-year-old Sister, Who Helps The Most. She Scoots Along The Bench To Octavia And Touches Her Skin With A Tentative Finger. “you're Green. Are You Sick?” “it's A Fashion Thing, Posy. Like Wearing Lipstick,” I Say. “it's Meant To Be Pretty,” Whispers Octavia, And I Can See The Tears Threatening To Spill Over Her Lashes. Posy Considers This And Says Matter-of-factly, “i Think You'd Be Pretty In Any Color.

You’re Not Leaving Me Here Alone,” I Say. Because If He Dies, I’ll Never Go Home, Not Really. I’ll Spend The Rest Of My Life In This Arena, Trying To Think My Way Out.