Shell

“We followed her up the path and to the front door. We stood
at the door while Camille knocked a few times then listened for
the tapping of footsteps against what sounded like a very old
wooden floor. The door opened, and a beautiful young woman
stood there smiling at us all.
She had long red hair and pretty freckles across her face. I was
about to say hello when Fran butted in, “Grandma?”
― Sophie Wilkinson, The Beginning

“The smallest objects in the room began to spin round and
move close to the mirrored object in the room. I managed to duck
as a chair came flying toward my head and missed me by a few
millimeters. I could feel myself being pulled in, being dragged
like someone was physically pulling me across the room. It was
hard not to begin to move forward. I couldn’t stop myself. I tried
to grab onto an object, but my hand slipped, and I went flying.
Fran’s arm caught me, but she wasn’t strong enough; we both
went flying toward the mirror. Faster and faster we were falling,
falling downward in a horizontal room. I felt like I was about to
hit the floor, like I was going to fall and fall forever.
I was scared for Fran and especially scared for me. Eventually,
we were consumed by the light. It was hard to breath. I couldn’t
feel, hear, or see anything.”
― Sophie Wilkinson

“In a time of deceit telling the truth is a revolutionary act.”
― George Orwell

“Ladies, bonjour. My name’s Madame Fi-Fi.” Her French
accent was thick, and I could hardly understand a word she was
saying. “Welcome to the Gay Paris.”
We both sniggered under our breaths, immature I know;
Madame Fi-Fi gave us a stern look.
“You are the new dancers?” she asked, sounding pretty
disappointed. “You looked taller in your pictures”
“Erm…” Fran smiled. “We were wearing high heels.” Fran got
on her tiptoes and fell over and knocked over a coatrack.
Great first impressions.”
― Sophie Wilkinson, The Beginning