Above

From Above The wings rustle after her, dry and unbending, catching the light and spreading it soft, white on white on white. In the morning, the house glows like your mama's arms: sourceless light and iridescence. I read that word in a thick old book once. When I went to Jack to ask what it meant, he held his hands out and they glowed so gentle I thought they might kiss the air, and since that day I wanted a place that was iridescent, that lit without burning. Being in love is sort of like that, when it's real. When it's true. It's like that to watch Ariel smile. Excerpted from Above by Leah Bobet All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.