All Stories Are Love Stories (2016) - Plot & Excerpts
Unseeing, he wondered if he was still alive. Could a person be dead without knowing it? Maybe. But he must be alive, because death couldn’t possibly bring so much pain. He moved his neck first, trying to turn it. The pain ripped up his ear and down his collarbone. He lay still. Without moving, he could tell that his right leg was in the worst shape; it was painful in a way everything else wasn’t, a searing so acute it verged on numbness. He guessed that it was pinned above the kneecap by something that—his fingers stretched to feel—might be wood, dense, but with some give. His right arm was twisted under him and he itched to wrench it free, but wasn’t sure he could move without injuring himself more or toppling whatever had fallen just short of crushing him. He could breathe, but the air felt thin, contaminated. As far as he could tell, which was very little—but every detail he could glean felt essential—a large section of balcony had fallen over them. The rows they’d ducked between must have stopped it from crushing them.
What do You think about All Stories Are Love Stories (2016)?
