Home Fire

• grief was bad-tempered, grief was kind; grief saw nothing but itself, grief saw every speck of pain in the world; grief spread its wings large like an eagle, grief huddled small like a porcupine; grief needed company, grief craved solitude; grief wanted to remember, wanted to forget; grief raged, grief whimpered; grief made time compress and contract; grief tasted like hunger, felt like numbness, sounded like silence; grief tasted like bile, felt like blades; sounded like all the noise of the world. grief was a shapeshifter, and invisible too.
• He looked like opportunity
  tasted like hope
  felt like love.

~Kamila Shamsie
Home Fire