Thomas Kinkade HOMETOWN EVENING

Thomas Kinkade HOMETOWN EVENINGThomas Kinkade HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYSThomas Kinkade Evening Glow
said, how old do you think I am?'
'Fifteen?' he hazarded.
'I'm sixteen,' she wailed. 'And do you know how long I've been sixteen for?'
'I'm sorry, I don't under —'
'No, you wouldn't. No-one would.' She blew her nose again, and despite her shaking hands nevertheless carefully tucked the rather damp hanky back up her sleeve.
'You're allowed out,' she said. 'You haven't been here long enough to notice. Time stands still here, haven't you noticed? Oh, something passes, but it's not real time. He can't create real time.'
'Oh.'who jumped off a cliff because her father insisted she should marry this old man, and another one drowned herself rather than submit to—'
Mort listened in astonishment. To judge by Ysabell's careful choice of reading maWhen she spoke again it was in the thin, careful and above all brave voice of someone who has pulled themselves together despite overwhelming odds but might let go again at any moment.'I've been sixteen for thirty-five years.''Oh?''It was she said. 'There's some really lovely stories. There was this girl who drank poison when her young man had died, and there was one tter, it was a matter of note for any Disc female to survive adolescence long enough