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I’ve loved him since I’ve known him, Mrs. Daniels. He just finally stopped fighting.

Amy Lane

I’ve loved him since I’ve known him, Mrs. Daniels. He just finally stopped fighting.

Amy Lane
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Okay. Some things were made of hope. But not this thing. This thing he was doing, that was made of surrender. He did it anyway. At least when you surrendered, you had time to kiss the people you loved good-bye.
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I tried very hard not to ponder the horrible irony that I was too ugly to love, and too ugly not to violate.
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You're the fantasy I never knew I had.
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Hammer", I finished lamely, as he waited patiently for my thoughts to find their voice, "we have got to find better words for the things we have in our hearts.""Words seem to be weak things," he murmured into my hair, and I could only hope our hearts would prove stronger.
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If you cannot see the fineness in my Hammer, you'd best look at him with better eyes.
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Hammer does not think he will make it through this next winter. His breath comes short in his chest, and it takes much effort for him to get up and dressed. My body is still creaky and sound, but with every labor of his breath, I think that my heart will not endure. Enduring were Hammer’s gift, not mine, and I will not endure a life in which he does not laugh by my side and touch my hand, wish for the best things for me, and rejoice when I have them. My sturdy, blessed, stoic Hammer—how can life be, without him?
Amy Lane
I know these are only dreams. I know these days are long past. I wake to a dream in which Hammer’s breath has stopped, and mine with it, and hearts have gone to a quiet sunny meadow with the sweetest little cottage in the middle, with a millwheel and a stream. Our bodies will lie tangled until they become earth, like roses twining so closely there is no beginning and no end, and only the shades of beauty that were their growing.Every dream I ever had as a child has come true, simply because Hammer loved me. Perhaps this one will too.
Amy Lane
The scarf could go on and on and on and on, and it could be the harlot-red banner of shame that wrapped him up and kept him warm when the nights grew lonely and cold.
Amy Lane
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