Quinn scribbles tainted emotions across thin layers of white paper. But to who? To someone who blinks once, sees her, and blinks again-just to make her disappear. To someone who sees her as a symbol of the ocean. To someone who thinks the ocean is disgusting and hideous, filled with trash and pathetic wandering fishes. To someone who believes that Quinn needs to be a size zero to be labeled as 'beautiful.' If she isn't, why in the world will anyone care to love her? She's disgusting. Worthless. An enormous sailboat that makes the world sink. But how long will it take until she sinks herself?

He wanted to kiss her.

I fell in love with a physicist, and then we lost ourselves. Maybe there are places we can all be happy. We just need to find those places. Or maybe they don't exist.