Memphis Found His Smile. 'you Know Me,

You Know What Else Is Hot?" Said A Nameless Blonde As She Put Her Arm Around The One Black Girl. "what?" "bisexuals." "totally. Well, Not Like Real Bisexuals Who Are Just Sort Of Your Everyday People, But, Like, The Kind Of Bisexuals You See In Magazines Wearing Nothing But Body Paint And Kissing Both Boys And Girls To Promote A New Single." "totally, Totally Hot.

Will Was Making A Speech, Something About Having Been Young And Careless Once, The Sort Of Thing Old-timers Said When They Issued A Deathblow, As If They Thought Their Sanctimonious Ramblings Disguised As Empathy Would Be Welcomed, But Evie Was Only Half Listening.

Harold Brodie Is A Louse And A Lothario Who Cheats At Cards And Has A Different Girl In His Rumble Seat Every Week. That Coupe Of His Is Pos-i-tute-ly A Petting Palace. And He’s A Terrible Kisser To Boot.” Evie’s Parents Stared In Stunned Silence. “or So I’ve Heard.

It Isn't That We Do What We Want. It's That We're Allowed To Want At All.

What Frightens You? What Makes The Hair On Your Arms Rise, Your Palms Sweat, The Breath Catch In Your Chest Like A Wild Thing Caged? Is It The Dark? A Fleeting Memory Of A Bedtime Story, Ghosts And Goblins And Witches Hiding In The Shadows? Is It The Way The Wind Picks Up Just Before A Storm, The Hint Of Wet In The Air That Makes You Want To Scurry Home To The Safety Of Your Fire? Or Is It Something Deeper, Something Much More Frightening, A Monster Deep Inside That You've Glimpsed Only In Pieces, The Vast Unknown Of Your Own Soul Where Secrets Gather With A Terrible Power, The Dark Inside?