Her eyes hold the pale moon in them, the way a still pond holds stars.
But hunger, like food, comes in many shapes and colors.
Tobias asked. "Weird? Weird?" Marco crowed. "The talking bird wants to know if getting information on the location of an alien from a whale, that you've just saved from sharks, by turning into dolphins . . . You're suggesting that's weird?
It's OAT-freaking-MEAL!
When I'm drawing a picture, I feel...quiet inside.
Homework, I have discovered, involves a sharp pencil and thick books and long sighs.