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Wicked fictions wrap a young tongue’s sweet-tipped fibs into fact.

No fields of gold. No ripe. One hill, no wave, no roll. I am billboards.

The air has grown inside me. It’s become a sanctuary.

A car curved left, leapt the curb, and came at us like the line of a bullet.

Two surgeons vaulted over a counter to hold open my incisions.

A boy knew he wouldn’t see his mother’s face as he rose from the mat.

Men came over carrying lanterns and pulled away the chunks of ice.

We could use our arms to squeeze or hold or load not a gun, not a gun.

Dogs electrocuted, set on fire. What buys the right to drown a dog?

“You know what they say about
free health care. It costs money.”

Rain falls steadily, rattling down drainpipes and gurgling into gutters.

Ella knew she hadn’t hurt Sebastian, but she knew she’d betrayed him.

How do we get there, to where we can answer what the jingle is asking.

The Others came in the light of day and splayed Father open.

Design a way to kill those rats, and do it now, Fiori, do it now.

Re: murdering democracy, oiling the shore, shearing the rain forest.

Louise watched from the shadow. She was looking for somewhere to land.

The war was about to begin, and the four boys were
in charge.

Lydda, when she closes her eyes, has traded one war zone for another.

I was opposed to the taking of human life. I was opposed to all war.

You have your apron on under your coat. We’ve got each other.

He begrudged how money poured through her hands like water.

The Nazis are training some of their storm-troopers here in America.

You’re going to have a difficult life if you can’t figure out where to stand.

A rumour went round that the Australians had bulletproof clothing.

Her cheek was like a plum about to burst and you had to close your eyes.

It was the way of the world: everybody wanted someone else.