We are up in the attic again. Just like yesterday. The sun is snaking in through the slats in the roof. The lighthouse is drinking up the light. In so many ways it reminds me of home. The way it seems so muted and detached from the rest of Walker life. Like it has fallen off the edge of the world. Like a shipwreck. It is a secret. Back in the Whirl we are all so fearful of being found by the Walkers. Of being outed and exposed.
Lorali, P160
Laura Dockrill
ISBN 978-1-4714-0422-1
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