She kept talking and she kept talking. I thought she would never stop. Standing there, I felt the sun pour through the w — Paul Tremblay, A Head Full of Ghosts

She kept talking and she kept talking. I thought she would never stop. Standing there, I felt the sun pour through the w — Paul Tremblay, A Head Full of Ghosts

She kept talking and she kept talking. I thought she would never stop. Standing there, I felt the sun pour through the w — Paul Tremblay, A Head Full of Ghosts

She kept talking and she kept talking. I thought she would never stop. Standing there, I felt the sun pour through the w — Paul Tremblay, A Head Full of Ghosts

She kept talking and she kept talking. I thought she would never stop. Standing there, I felt the sun pour through the w — Paul Tremblay, A Head Full of Ghosts

She kept talking and she kept talking. I thought she would never stop. Standing there, I felt the sun pour through the windows, setting and rising on my back. The sunroom had become a sundial measuring the geological age of my psychological toture.

— Paul Tremblay, A Head Full of Ghosts

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