“The sun drops daily down the sky, The long cold crawls near, The aspen spills its gold in the air, Lavish beyond the mind. He wondered why his own attempts at poetry were so consistently bad. His notebook lay on the nightstand beside him, unopened, a pencil still marking where he’d stopped. Did you have to be born with poetry in you? Which made him think of Sky and what he’d said about the blood of his mother being inside him, carrying a malice that today showed in Sky Carson’s pale blue eyes. ...Sky had gotten to him. Wylie had never seen Sky so completely … decisive. Wylie had never looked directly into Cynthia Carson’s eyes, but he had seen her from a near distance, and studied her through binoculars once—scary—and found pictures of her on the Internet, and, yes, she had that same conviction in her eyes, the same certainty. Everything is about her. His phone buzzed and he opened Beatrice’s text: “Mountain Hi crazy. Can u come get me?” The attached video had been shot from the first-floor great room of Mountain High.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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