"Some stories don't have endings," she says. "In some stories, there aren't even answers." - Caitlín R. Kiernan

Dancy can hear rain beginning to fall on the tar-paper roof of the cabin. Fat summer raindrops, and it’s the sweetest sound, almost, sweet as the end of a fever, as ripe as red apples.

I loved this place when I was a kid. I still love it, but when I was a kid I'd take the bus down here and spend all day long reading in this room.

…but that was a long time ago, a long story everyone’s tired of repeating, or a short story simply not worth repeating again.