Caitlyn Spies Quotes in Boy Swallows Universe
“Yeah, it’s dead,” I say.
“Stupid bird seemed so determined to kill itself,” he says.
Caitlyn slaps her hands.
“Wren!” she says. “I remember now! That’s a wren.”
And with that, the dead blue wren comes back. Like it was just waiting for Caitlyn Spies to recognise it, because, like all living things—like me, me, me—it lives and dies on her breath and her attention.
“I know you’re just the voice in my head,” I say. “You’re a figment of my imagination. I use you to escape from moments of great trauma.”
“Escape?” the man echoes. “What, like Slim over the Boggo Road walls? Escape from yourself, Eli, do ya, like the Houdini of your own mind?”
“773 8173,” I say. “That’s just the number we’d tap into the calculator when we were kids. That’s just ‘Eli Bell’ upside down and back to front.”
“Brilliant!” the man says. “Upside down and back to front, like the universe, hey Eli? You still got the axe?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” the man says. “He’s coming, Eli.”
“I thought they’d look different, your mum and dad,” she says.
I laugh. “You did?”
“They’re so nice,” she says. “They just look like any normal mum and dad.”
“They’ve been working on normal for quite some time now.”
“Just let it ring out, Eli,” she says softly. “What’s he going to tell you”—she puts her other hand behind my head, her perfect and gentle hand sliding down to the back of my neck—“that you don’t already know?”
And the phone rings again as she moves into me and the phone rings again as she closes her eyes and presses her lips against mine and I will remember this moment through the stars I see on the ceiling of this secret room and the spinning planets those stars surround and the dust of a million galaxies scattered across her bottom lip. I will remember this kiss through the big bang. I will remember the end through the beginning.
And the phone stops ringing.
Caitlyn Spies Quotes in Boy Swallows Universe
“Yeah, it’s dead,” I say.
“Stupid bird seemed so determined to kill itself,” he says.
Caitlyn slaps her hands.
“Wren!” she says. “I remember now! That’s a wren.”
And with that, the dead blue wren comes back. Like it was just waiting for Caitlyn Spies to recognise it, because, like all living things—like me, me, me—it lives and dies on her breath and her attention.
“I know you’re just the voice in my head,” I say. “You’re a figment of my imagination. I use you to escape from moments of great trauma.”
“Escape?” the man echoes. “What, like Slim over the Boggo Road walls? Escape from yourself, Eli, do ya, like the Houdini of your own mind?”
“773 8173,” I say. “That’s just the number we’d tap into the calculator when we were kids. That’s just ‘Eli Bell’ upside down and back to front.”
“Brilliant!” the man says. “Upside down and back to front, like the universe, hey Eli? You still got the axe?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” the man says. “He’s coming, Eli.”
“I thought they’d look different, your mum and dad,” she says.
I laugh. “You did?”
“They’re so nice,” she says. “They just look like any normal mum and dad.”
“They’ve been working on normal for quite some time now.”
“Just let it ring out, Eli,” she says softly. “What’s he going to tell you”—she puts her other hand behind my head, her perfect and gentle hand sliding down to the back of my neck—“that you don’t already know?”
And the phone rings again as she moves into me and the phone rings again as she closes her eyes and presses her lips against mine and I will remember this moment through the stars I see on the ceiling of this secret room and the spinning planets those stars surround and the dust of a million galaxies scattered across her bottom lip. I will remember this kiss through the big bang. I will remember the end through the beginning.
And the phone stops ringing.