That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her sp — Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
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That made love—not grace—the magic ingredient. Then anew thought hit her. Perhaps love was grace. A shiver wentup her spine. What did that make anger? The antithesis ofgrace?

— Penelope Marzec, A Rush of Light
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