He was like an undead boomerang. A zomberang.
I needed sleep. Big squishy bunches of it. Soon.
I don’t know how to explain it.” “Try words. If that doesn’t work, we’ll move on to interpretive dance.
Then they both smiled the exact same smile. Narcissism times two. Oh, get a room already.
Keep digging, Flynn. Six feet makes a grave.
For a brief, weird minute I felt like Dorothy in Oz, walking down the street with Terric the doubtful, Shame the brainless, and heartless Zay.