The Gentle Sound Of Her Words Became

She Was Getting Bitchy.that Was A Good Sign. "what Am I Supposed To Do Till You Get Back?" I Said, Patting The Smouldering Leather. "hide In My Closet? I"d Rather Be With You.

Rachel, You Take Her,” My Mother Said, Clearly Uncomfortable. “she Might Like You.” “no. Mom, No!” I Protested, But It Was My Mother We Were Talking About, And It Was Either Take The Baby Or Have Her Hit The Floor.

I Can Think Of A Lot Of Things To Do," He Said, "and None Of Them Involve Standing Up. - Al

Hate Is All That Keeps Us Alive When Love Is Gone. You’re Almost There. Not Quite Ready To Let It Go Yet.

You Look Like The Vamp Who Bled The Cat.