Sunday Sentence: So We Can Glow by Leesa Cross-Smith

Simply put, the best sentence(s) I’ve read this past week, presented out of context and without commentary.

Leigh closed her eyes and pictured every flower every bush every vine every tree every root every green or brown or white or yellow or red or pink or purple or orange thing snapping and whipping loose and wrapping itself around her, around both of them, suffocating them as they gave their ghosts to the petal-scents and thorns.

"A Tennis Court" from So We Can Glow by Leesa Cross-Smith