Knit One
Knit one. Purl one. Knit one. Purl one. Amy knits her fifth jumper in as many days.
Knit one. Purl one. Knit one. Purl one. Amy knits her fifth jumper in as many days.
I understand your reluctance to believe us, but [redacted] is incapable of lying. Neither mentally, nor physically. Otherwise, his eternal soul would be in peril.
“Mommy. My brain is, is, is buzzing.” “Brains don’t buzz, babygirl.”
Before she had even opened her eyes, her body had snapped into a fighting stance as she hit the floor, adrenaline flooding her system.
The forest was alive with urgent murmurs, its eerie dance often blocking her path, forcing her to double back in search of an exit.
‘Cannibals again? That’s not very novel, Frank,’ Cassandra said with a frown.
‘I’m Gabriel,’ I lie. When a dead human walks into your office, lying is easier. I give them a familiar name, a reminder of something safe.
My granny says only grifters and idiots get religion. I learned which one of those my momma was when my stepdad Russel came along.