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I didn't think my day could get any worse until my best friend told me she might be going crazy. again.
-Richelle Mead
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I Didn't Think My Day Could Get

Richelle Mead
I didn't think my day could get any worse until my best friend told me she might be going crazy. again.
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Crazy Thinking My Best Friend

More From Richelle Mead

He began to trace a pattern on the table with the nail of his thumb. "she kept saying she wanted to keep things exactly the way they were, and that she wished she could stop everything from changing. she got really nervous, like, talking about the future. she once told me that she could see herself now, and she could also see the kind of life she wanted to have - kids, husband, suburbs, you know - but she couldn't figure out how to get from point a to point b.
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She comes to me when she wants to be fed. and after i feed her -- guess what -- she's off to wherever she wants to be in the house, until the next time she gets hungry. she's smart enough to know she can't feed herself. she's actually a very smart cat. she gets loved. she gets adoration. she gets petted. she gets fed. and she doesn't have to do anything for it, which is why i say this cat's taught me more about women, than anything my whole life.
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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.
Life Hymns Snow
Franny has the measles, for one thing. incidentally, did you hear her last week? she went on at beautiful length about how she used to fly all around the apartment when she was four and no one was home. the new announcer is worse than grant - if possible, even worse than sullivan in the old days. he said she surely dreamt that she was able to fly. the baby stood her ground like an angel. she said she knew she was able to fly because when she came down she always had dust on her fingers from touching the light bulbs.
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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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Annabel looked down. her hands were shaking. she couldn't do this. not yet. she couldn't face the man she'd kissed who happened to be the heir to the man she didn't want to kiss but whos she probably was going to marry. oh yes, and she could not forget that if she did marry the man she didn't want to kiss, she was likely to provide him with a new heir, thus cutting off the man she did want to kiss.
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