We Can Heal. Perhaps We Can Return

So, Tell Me,” He Whispers. “how Fast Did You Climb Those Fourteen Stories?” Thomas Makes A Disapproving Sound In His Throat, But I Break Into A Grin. Storm’s Past. Metias Loves Me Again. “six Minutes,” I Whisper Back To My Brother. “and Forty-four Seconds. How Do You Like That?” “that Must Be Some Sort Of Record. Not That, You Know, You’re Supposed To Do It.

Fantasy And Science Fiction Are Where My Brain Lives.

Everyone Has Darkness Inside Them, However Hidden.

Yeah, Something Was Wrong. That Was The Understatement Of The Year.

Few People Ever Kill For The Right Reasons, June. Most Do It For The Wrong Reasons. I Just Hope You Never Have To Be In Either Category.