Dream Worlds Are Born

Strange Weather by Joe Hill: Rain


#1

:cloud_with_rain:


#2

Martina, the Russian stripper who lived in the apartment below mine, was out in our dusty scrap of yard, sunning herself in a black bikini so tiny it felt like you ought to have to feed a machine quarters to keep looking at her.

Hill, Joe. Strange Weather (p. 333). William Morrow. Kindle Edition.

Lol


#3

The sight of her made my heart swell so full my chest hurt, but I hugged her mother more firmly than I squeezed my beloved. No last embrace. No final kiss. I’ll live with that shame the rest of my life.

Hill, Joe. Strange Weather (p. 336). William Morrow. Kindle Edition.

I was really hoping this would be about the couple making it together :frowning:


#4

I teased the girl about how much she’d packed for the big move. “You sure you remembered everything? I hope you didn’t forget the trampoline. What about the canoe? You get that jammed in there somewhere?”

Hill, Joe. Strange Weather (pp. 336-337). William Morrow. Kindle Edition.

Lol


#5

“We’ll get the chair inside,” Yolanda’s mother told me. “Leave it. I’ll be right back,” I told them—the last thing I ever said to either of them.

Hill, Joe. Strange Weather (p. 338). William Morrow. Kindle Edition.

:sob:


#6

The comet-cult gal who was picking paper plates out of the road arched her back, very suddenly, and went all wide-eyed, as if someone had pinched her rear end. I could see pins hitting the road and spraying this way and that by then: needles of silver and gold.

Hill, Joe. Strange Weather (p. 340). William Morrow. Kindle Edition.

:scream:


#7

I didn’t cry, but then I have never been much of a crier. Sometimes I think that part of me is broken.

Hill, Joe. Strange Weather (p. 342). William Morrow. Kindle Edition.

With me I can’t seem to cry in front of people. I have very few times. It takes some pretty catastrophic sorrow in me to make me able to cry in front of others. Meanwhile I can just be watching a movie and cry when I’m alone lol


#8

It was reassuring to know our national leaders were using all the resources at their disposal to help the desperate: social media and Jesus.

Hill, Joe. Strange Weather (p. 344). William Morrow. Kindle Edition.

Sounds about like what would really happen


#9

The chemists and the geologists couldn’t come up with any natural process that would account for what had happened—which meant it had to be the result of an unnatural process. Someone had figured out how to poison the sky.

Hill, Joe. Strange Weather (pp. 344-345). William Morrow. Kindle Edition.

That would be so terrifying. To go through that then have to stress it might happen again since nobody can figure out what/who caused it.


#10

that. The idea, though, of telling him he’d lost his wife and daughter made my whole body throb with dread.

Hill, Joe. Strange Weather (p. 346). William Morrow. Kindle Edition.

News like that is the hardest to give because thats the most painful thing someone can go through, losing someone they love.


#11

“If you knew what we knew,” he whispered, “you’d beg to join us. We were the only ones ready for what happened today. A smart girl would think about that. A smart girl would ask herself what else we know—that she doesn’t.”

Hill, Joe. Strange Weather (p. 355). William Morrow. Kindle Edition.

I wouldnt be able to trust a group like that. Those groups always claim they know everything about everything.


#12

“If you knew what we knew,” he whispered, “you’d beg to join us. We were the only ones ready for what happened today. A smart girl would think about that. A smart girl would ask herself what else we know—that she doesn’t.” He sounded plenty ominous, but when he turned away with a dramatic swish, he stepped on a nail and yelped in a high-pitched voice that kinda ruined the effect.

Hill, Joe. Strange Weather (p. 355). William Morrow. Kindle Edition.

:rofl:


#13

Maybe if we’d had more time, she would’ve taught me to cry. Maybe if we’d had more time together, I would’ve learned how to wash my infected parts clean in a good, healthy flow of tears.

Hill, Joe. Strange Weather (p. 399). William Morrow. Kindle Edition.

:sob:


#14

“He . . . he said . . .” she gasped. Her voice was small, and her breath was rapid and shallow. “He said he paid Yolanda a thousand dollars to b-babysit over the years, and her p-parents should’ve g-given it back. That they never should’ve let s-someone l-like Yolanda—like you—watch children!” Her face twisted in an ugly sort of way when she said that last bit. “He said they owed us.”

Hill, Joe. Strange Weather (p. 402). William Morrow. Kindle Edition.

:rage:


#15

Ursula herself had, I heard, 897 nails in her by the end. She was a red carpet stuck full of blades. I hope she died knowing her boy was going to live, that she had saved him. What she did to us—to the world, to the sky—is unforgivable, but I wouldn’t want any mother to die feeling she’d failed to protect her child. Justice and cruelty are not the same, and knowing that is the difference between being right in your head and being someone like Ursula Blake.

Hill, Joe. Strange Weather (p. 426). William Morrow. Kindle Edition.

Yep


#16

Finished, these were so good