The house looked like any other house and the door looked like any other door. Normal.
I kiss my wife on the lips. Her breath smells of last night’s toothpaste mixed with sleep.
It was a perfect day for walking. The morning had broken and washed the sky in technicolour; palest lemon blending into brazen orange and deep, dark ochre.
When he’s fifteen, he and his mother move to a new town and he starts at a new school. It’s not an easy age to do that – the social order of the school is already well established and he has some difficulty making friends.
I almost expected to see my doppelgänger sprinting across town pursued by a mob, but I guess things didn’t work that way. — RANSOM RIGGS, MISS PEREGRINE’S HOME FOR PECULIAR CHILDREN
Given I’m dying, and have just the one pen, let’s motor through the pleasantries.
Nora and Stevie were lucky by name and lucky by nature – at least that’s what they’d been told throughout their forty-nine years.