Quotes from Mark Richard

Satan demands to sift us like sand through his fingers, and God, knowing everything, allows it.

You is mine, Fishboy, you is all mine.

I was dead and drowned. I lay on the bottom of the fishhouse creek looking up at the night sky through a low tide. I could make out amber lights of stars and the moon dulled by the peat water of the creek. I was a carcass comfortable in the cool shifting underwater eddies.

Don't be frightened, Fishboy