The room’s changes- water bugs adhering to walls, one bobbing dead mouse- only heightened what hadn’t changed - The Virgin Suicides

A series of dissolves, their house, street, city, country, and finally planet, which not only dwarfs but obliterates them.

It didn't matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls, but only that we had loved them, and that they hadn't heard us calling, still do not hear us, up here in the tree house with our thinning hair and soft bellies, calling them out of those rooms where they went to be alone for all time, alone in suicide, which is deeper than death, and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together.

I knew I had to close that window or else she'd go on jumping out of it forever.