I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him.
Her round, mascara-streaked face looked back at him out of the rear window. He forced a grin and a wave before lighting another cigarette, and reflecting that Lucy's idea of sympathty compared unfavourably with some of the interrogation techniques they had used at Guantanamo.
Cinderella? Snow White? What's that? An illness?
I don't go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me.
Dawn seemed to follow midnight with indecent haste.
Nothing like a nighttime stroll to give you ideas.