The night they decided to leave London Bea had a dream. Dreams are like silent films; guns are fired without shots, people talk without voices.
Daisy Jones was born in 1951 and grew up in the Hollywood Hills of Los Angeles, California.
Caro pulled her jersey over her knees knowing she should just be sensible and have an early night.
Even before stepping into the cottage, Gary knows that this is bad.
JOE AND I were in the back seat of a black sedan, cruising along a motorway from Amsterdam Airport Schiphol to the International Criminal Court in The Hague.
Wails of grief drifted over the city like a black aria. The mud brick dwellings burst with anguish, as the sorrow swirled into the night desert.
A prime number is divisible only by itself and by one. If I were a prime number, I’d want to be a five.
By the time I pull my car into the garage, my hands are shaking on the wheel. I tell myself I have no reason to feel so nervous.
Nadia once told me that she was kept awake at night by the idea that she would read about the end of the world on a phone notification.
All families are secret societies. Realms of intrigue and internal warfare, governed by their own rules, regulations, boundaries, frontiers. Rules which often make no sense to those outside its borders.
A man melted into the throng of tourists gathered along the E Street walkway.
No Regrets. Stupid name for a signature cocktail. Brears had found the recipe online, this tequila-Baileys thing.
When Pearly was in a north-facing upstairs bedroom, he saw through the window a woman come briskly to the neighbour’s back door, which opened without the need for her to pause on entry.
Diary of a Wimpy Kid world to expand in April 2019 with new book: DIARY OF AN AWESOME FRIENDLY KID
The call comes at 3 a.m. The jagged ring of the bedside telephone tearing a hole in our sleep. I reach out a hand to silence it.
Red and yellow leaves drift down through the sunlight on to the wet asphalt, which cuts through the woods like a dark and glassy river.