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Edmund, who was becoming a nastier person every minute, thought that he had scored a great success, and went on at once to say, 'there she goes again. what's the matter with her?
-C. S. Lewis
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Edmund, Who Was Becoming A Nastier Person

C. S. Lewis
Edmund, who was becoming a nastier person every minute, thought that he had scored a great success, and went on at once to say, 'there she goes again. what's the matter with her?
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Matter Becoming Great Success

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She didn’t understand why it was happening,” he said. “i had to tell her she would die. her social worker said i had to tell her. i had to tell her she would die, so i told her she was going to heaven. she asked if i would be there, and i said that i would not, not yet. but eventually, she said, and i promised that yes, of course, very soon. and i told her that in the meantime we had great family up there that would take care of her. and she asked me when i would be there, and i told her soon. twenty-two years ago.
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You have a traitor there, aslan," said the witch. of course everyone present knew that she meant edmund. but edmund had got past thinking about himself after all he'd been through and after the talk he'd had that morning. he just went on looking at aslan. it didn't seem to matter what the witch said.
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She smiled. she knew she was dying. but it did not matter any longer. she had known something which no human words could ever tell and she knew it now. she had been awaiting it and she felt it, as if it had been, as if she had lived it. life had been, if only because she had known it could be, and she felt it now as a hymn without sound, deep under the little whole that dripped red drops into the snow, deeper than that from which the red drops came. a moment or an eternity- did it matter? life, undefeated, existed and could exist. she smiled, her last smile, to so much that had been possible.
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Eventually she came. she appeared suddenly, exactly like she'd done that day- she stepped into the sunshine, she jumped, she laughed and threw her head back, so her long ponytail nearly grazed the waistband of her jeans. after that, i couldn't think about anything else. the mole on the inside of her right elbow, like a dark blot of ink. the way she ripped her nails to shreds when she was nervous. her eyes, deep as a promise. her stomach, pale and soft and gorgeous, and the tiny dark cavity of her belly button. i nearly went crazy.
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Suddenly she felt strong and happy. she was not afraid of the darkness or the fog and she knew with a singing in her heart that she would never fear them again. no matter what mists might curl around her in the future, she knew her refuge. she started briskly up the street toward home and the blocks seemed very long. far, far too long. she caught up her skirts to her knees and began to run lightly. but this time she was not running from fear. she was running because rhett's arms were at the end of the street.
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And she loved a man who was made out of nothing. a few hours without him and right away she’d be missing him with her whole body, sitting in her office surrounded by polyethylene and concrete and thinking of him. and every time she’d boil water for coffee in her ground-floor office, she’d let the steam cover her face, imagining it was him stroking her cheeks, her eyelids and she’d wait for the day to be over, so she could go to her apartment building, climb the flight of stairs, turn the key in the door, and find him waiting for her, naked and still between the sheets of her empty bed.
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