...and we'll see what happens when we say Yes while this rigor mortis world screams No.

But I'm not afraid of the skeletons in Julie's closet. I look forward to meeting the rest of them, looking them hard in the eye, giving them firm, bone-crunching handshakes.

How do I appear unthreatening when her lover's blood is running down my chin?

Nothing is permanent. Not even the end of the world.

That's why we have memory. And the opposite of memory— hope. So things that are gone can still matter. So we can built off our pasts and make future.

I can no longer believe in any voodoo spell or laboratory virus. This is something deeper, darker. This comes from the cosmos, from the stars, or the unknown blackness behind them. The shadows in God's boarded-up basement.

...wanting change is step one, but step two is taking it.