You're right, he's a killer," you said. "A rooster with some serious issues.
It was like I existed in a kind of parallel universe, thinking thoughts and feelings that no one else understood.
It was like I’d stepped out into an afterlife. Only there were no angels.
I thought you didn't want to let me go.
People love what they're used to, I guess." "No." You shook your head. "People should love what needs loving. That way they can save it.
I looked down at my stomach. I grabbed at it, seeing how much fat I could lift up in a roll. "Don't worry," you said, one eye open again like a crocodile watching me. "You're beautiful." You tipped your head back. "Beautiful," you murmured. "Perfect.