I feel warm and reassured," I whispered. "He's like Santa.

Don't get stabbed. It makes everything awkward.

Why Paris? Paris needs no reason. Paris is its own reason.

It was almost funny. Life seemed downright accidental in its brevity, and death a punch line to a lousy joke.

I could pretend, at least, and if I pretended long enough, maybe I could make it into a reality.

You'd been petting a stuffed dog?' she said 'A dead one?' 'It was a really well stuffed dog' I clarified. 'I have seen some bad taxidermy. This was top-notch work. It would have fooled anyone.

I looked at the stained-glass image of the lamb in the window above me, but that only reminded me that lambs are famous for being led to slaughter, or sometimes hanging out with lions in ill-advised relationships.