Alone. It's one of those small words that means entirely too much. Like fear. Or trust.

I kept a straight face while my inner Neanderthal spluttered and then went on a mental rampage through a hypothetical produce section, knocking over shelves and spattering fruit everywhere in sheer frustration, screaming, 'JUST TELL ME WHOSE SKULL TO CRACK WITH MY CLUB, DAMMIT!

You don’t have to run faster than the bear to get away. You just have to run faster than the guy next to you.

Just like credit card companies, or those student loan people. Now there's evil for you.

My gast was pretty well flabbered.

Many things are not as they seem: The worst things in life never are.

If I was on the road to Hell, at least I was going in style.