I Can't Give You The Moon,” The

Old Cob Tucked Away His Bowl Of Stew With The Predatory Efficency Of A Lifetime Bachelor.

I’d Heard He Had Started A Fistfight In One Of The Seedier Local Taverns Because Someone Had Insisted On Saying The Word “utilize” Instead Of “use.

He Hesitated, Then Lifted His Head And Sniffed. “have You Been Drinking?” The Question Was More Curious Than Accusatory. “no,” Bast Said. The Innkeeper Raised An Eyebrow. “i’ve Been Tasting,” Bast Said, Emphasizing The Word. “tasting Comes Before Drinking.

It Might Not Be True, But That Doesn't Mean It's Nonsense.

I Spoke It Soft, But Close Enough To Brush Against Her Lips. I Spoke It Quiet, But Near Enough So That The Sound Of It Went Twining Through Her Hair. I Spoke It Hard And Firm And Dark And Sweet.