favorite phrase of the day

Their mutual love swelled and swirled around them. Sami studied [him], envisioned him sitting before her as he did now but with his circa 1966 short hair and circa 1966 clothing. She knew him. Beyond any shadow of any doubt, she knew him. And as he’d said, she always had. “You made an oubliette before I left here, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but I guess I made it too strong.” He hadn’t meant to completely erase her memories of her mother. And he hadn’t meant to completely erase her memories of him, either. He’d intended only to ease the pain of a three-year-old child. “I’m sorry the Clarks were such shitheads.”

She burst out laughing.

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Author: Mari Adkins

Appalachian gothic fiction writer - my works reflect a love of literature flavored by the darkness and magic residing in these ancient mountains. In my spare time, I'm a Simmer, I tumbl, I journal, but I always have a very strange sense of humor. I have lived away from the mountains and lived deep in the mountains. I currently live in Central Kentucky with my lifepartner and his cat. The mountains, their culture, their superstitions, their particular magics, will always be in my blood.