Though there was no sound, there was a change. The atmosphere, which had gone tense at my accusation, relaxed. I wondered how I knew this. I had a strange sensation that I was somehow receiving more than my five senses were giving me - almost a feeling that there was another sense, on the fringes, not quite harnessed. Intuition? That was almost the right word. As if any creature needed more than five senses.

I think Ian likes you too much

Perhaps there could be no joy on this planet without an equal weight of pain to balance it out on some unknown scale.

What if I'm not a superhero. What if I'm the bad guy?

no two writers go about things in exactly the same way (intro)

Darkness is so predictable.

Your scent is like a drug to me like my own personal brand of heroin.