Since I couldn't decide what snippet to post, here is the second one. It's from the scary story ... Everlasting.
Her name was lost when the stars were lost. When the shroud covered the sky with the screaming souls of the dead.
She is not who she was, but she remembers. She will always remember. Remember the city that was.
Approaching dusk brings waves of worker bees out of the skyscrapers, cascading toward the entrances of the subway and Union Station, stopping cars by their flood. They are a tide rippling out to the suburbs and back in. Out and in, out and in, out and in: an unending cycle -- or so she thinks.
It rises between one breath and the next, one blink and the next – unexpected, unknown. A translucent tapestry of grey and pink and white, it stretches over houses and buildings, part of the lake. It covers hospitals, theatres, parks. Queen’s Park.
No time to run, to scream, to weep; to see the sun, the sky or the stars one last time.
No time. Too much time.