Hey, boss. Where are you?” she asked. “I just picked up something to eat. What about professional belly dancers?” “Um, I don’t know, maybe with horseradish.

You’re just using me for my body.” “You don’t have a body,” I’d remind him. “Throw that in my face.” “Technically, you don’t have a face either.

She looked at me, confused. “He hardly knew me. My parents dated and got married before we knew what happened. Let’s just say we were not brought into the loop on that decision.” “That’s weird. I wasn’t brought into the loop with my parents’ marriage either.” “Really? How old were you?” “Twelve months.” She giggled. “I can’t imagine why they didn’t ask your opinion.

I did that thing where you scratch your eyebrow and flip someone off at the same time. I'm good at multitasking like that.

I have them a few minutes to absorb everything while I teased Ubie, who only had to recover from his near-death experience. I was so glad Reyes hadn't ripped him to shreds. I liked him much better un-shredded. Unlike, say, my preference for lettuce or heavy metal guitar solos.

I love language, words, and all the lovely, exciting, and heart wrenching things you can do with them. Pick the right ones, put them in the right order, and you’ve created a moment in time where the reader forgets about the late car payment, the dirty dishes, the impending workweek. You have created a state of bliss. Or negligence, depending on your perspective.

When I want your opinion, I'll remove the duct tape.--T-SHIRT