A Good Love Story Always Keeps The

Just For Fun I Flew In Huge Banking Arcs, Taking Deep Breaths, Enjoying The Feel Of My Newly Weightless Hair. The Stylist Had Called It “wind Tossed.” If Only She Knew.

Dogs, Dogs, Go Away, Let Me Live Another Day.

It Is My Time. The Time Of Maximum Ride.

The Weird, Weird Thing About Devastating Loss Is Tha Life Actually Goes On.

Unfortunately, Every Time Someone Said “debriefing,” The Entire Flock Had One Image: Someone’s Tighty-whities Disappearing In A Flash. We Were Smothering Our Giggles, But It Was Getting Harder. Coupled With The Whole “naval This, And Naval That,” With Its Undeniable Belly-button Connotations, We Were Essentially Turning Into A Sugar-jacked, Sleep-deprived Flock Of Incoherent, Silly, Recombinant-dna Goofballs. This Was Not Going To End Well.