Have You Been Sniffing Fairy Farts?

People Ask Me What I Do In My Spare Time, And I Look At Them Blankly, Truly Believing That I Don't Even Have Spare Time, And If I Did, I'd Probably Use It For Something Mundane, Like Chipping Away At The Mound Of Laundry Rising To Dangerous Proportions In The Back Room.

Come Work For Me, And I’ll Tell You.” My Eyes Went To His. “you Are A Thief, A Cheat, A Murderer, And A Not-nice Man,” I Said Calmly. “i Don’t Like You.” He Shrugged, The Motion Making Him Look Utterly Harmless. “i’m Not A Thief,” He Said. “and I Don’t Mind Manipulating You Into Working For Me When I Need It.” He Smiled, Showing Me Perfect Teeth. “i Enjoy It, Actually.

I’m Not Going To Pick Her Up And Carry Her Screaming To The Basement,” Trent Said. “it’s A Workday. Besides, She Has A Crutch.” “crutch Or No, She’s Hurt!” Ceri Protested. “i Mean,” Trent Said Intently, “she Can Hit Me With It If I Do Something She Doesn’t Like.

I'll Wait For You Under The Bluebells. I'll Be There Always.

I Grew Up Reading Sf In The 70s And 80s, And I Like Fast, Thought-provoking Plots That Take You Places In Fully Realized Worlds.