Yet the memory would not set into the setting sun, that green and frozen glance to the wide blue sea where broken hearts are wrecked out of their wounds. A blind sky bleached white the intellect of human bone, skinning the emotions from the fracture to reveal the grief underneath. And the mirror reveals me, a naked and vulnerable fact. --Dambudzo Marechera, Black Sunlight

To Claudia, my mother.

A mile below the lowest cloud, rock breaches water and the sea begins.

I am the Brucolac, and your sword won't save you. You think you can face me?

I will deliver it by hand.