The guy stood up straight as if physically smacked. I ran up behind her and pushed my finger against the inside of my sweatshirt and couldn’t think of anything productive to add so I just yelled, “Yeah!” and hiccuped.
This is what I was waiting for. I all but cry, but I don’t.
My sister once said that I was uninteresting because I lacked an original wound.
Love is like a museum. You have to look around, experience things, and then leave.
Garielle's longest, most peculiar, most particularized book. A sure-to-be collector's item. Not be be missed!
