I Thought You Couldn't Make It Here

He Didn't Say Anything More, Just Waited For Me To Tell Him What I'd Been Thinking. It Was Pure Speculation, And I Was Opening Myself Up To Ridicule By Saying Anything At All. I Sat On The Stool And Realized That I Had My Loyalties, Too.

Samuel Laughed Out Loud. "you Still Haven't Figured It Out, Have You, Mercy? He Never Was Mad About The Car. He Was The First One At The Scene Of The Accident. He Thought You'd Killed Yourself. We All Did. That Was A Pretty Spectacular Wreck.

During My Last Year Of College I Wrote The Same Ten Pages Over And Over Again. Those Ten Pages Became The First Few Pages Of My First Novel. I Can Still Recite The Opening Paragraph From Memory - Only Now I Cringe When I Do It Because They Are - Surprise! - A Classic Example Of Overwriting, In Addition To Being A More Than A Little Pretentious.

You Don’t Have The Courage Of A Half-bred Mongrel.

Do You Have Any Idea How Much I Love You?” He Asked. ”enough To Accept My Apologies?” I Suggested In A Small Voice. ”heck No,” He Said, And Pushed Off From The Wall, Stalking Forward. When He Reached Me, He Put His Hands Up And Touched The Sides Of My Neck With The Tips Of His Fingers – As If I Were Something Fragile. ”no Apologies From You,” He Told Me, His Voice Soft Enough To Melt My Knees And Most Of My Other Parts.