You Are The Devil To Talk To,

Somehow I Found Him. Somehow I Found Al's Sarcastic Thoughts, Bitter And Old. Tired, Angry, Bored. Alone.

You Need Me, Just Whistle," He Said As He Arranged His Ball Cap Over His Eyes Against The Sun Leaking Through The Frost-emptied Branches. "you're Not Coming?" Lifting The Brim Of His Cap, He Eyed Me, "you Want Me To?" He Asked Blandly. "not Really, No." He Dropped The Brim And Laced His Hands Over His Middle. "then Why Are You Bitching? It's A Crime Scene, Not A Grocery Store.

Two Thousand Miles, Rachel,” He Said Tightly, And I Guessed That No, It Didn’t Violate The Rules Of Whatever He Was Doing Out Here, Because He Sure Wasn’t Out Here Keeping The Coven From Attacking Me. “i Have Eaten Nothing But Slop For Two Days And Used Facilities I Wouldn’t Let My Dogs Urinate In. And What About That Couple In The Rv Outside Texas? I’ll Never Get That Memory Out Of My Head.” - Trent To Rachel

Rachel, You Summon Demons. You’re Good At It. Get Over It, Then Find A Way To Make It Work For You. It’s Not Going To Go Away.

Married Pixy, I Told Myself, Forcing My Eyes Back To The Shelf Of Ceramic Animals. Fifty-four Kids. Beautiful Wife, Sweet As Sugar, Who Would Kill Me In My Sleep While Apologizing For It.