I shook again, tasted plum, and suddenly the words were pouring out of me."She said I sang before I spoke. She said when I was just a baby she had the habit of humming when she held me. Nothing like a song. Just a descending third. Just a soothing sound. Then one day she was walking me around the camp, and she heard me echo it back to her. Two octaves higher. A tiny piping third. She said it was my first song. We sang it back and forth to each other. For years."I choked and clenched my teeth."You can say it,"Auri said softly."It's okay if you say it.""I'm never going to see her again,"I choked out. Then I began to cry in earnest."It's okay,"Auri said softly."I'm here. You're safe.

It exhasperated her, but she knew better than to force the world to her desire.

The gesture was so tight with rage she feared she’d snap and crack the world in two.

I love her more than just a little. I think it's because we're both somewhat broken, in our own odd ways. More importantly, we're both aware of it.

Oh yes. It was well worth it, doing things the proper way.

She was not vain enough to work her will against the world. But she could use the things the world had given her.

But for half a minute she wished it was a different sort of day, even though she knew that nothing good could come from wanting at the world. Even though she knew it was a wicked thing to do.

She shelled the nuts and toasted them, jiggling them about in the pan. She sprinkled them with salt and ate them each by each. Some were bitter. Some were sweet. Some were hardly anything. That was just the way of things.

Nothing was nothing else. Nothing was anything it shouldn’t be.

They were everything they ought to be and nothing else.