She Shrieks Above The Din. "if You

Because 'you're Perfect Just The Way You Are,' Is What Your Guidance Counselor Says. And She's An Alcoholic.

There Is No Greater Power On This Earth Than Story.” Will Paced The Length Of The Room. “people Think Boundaries And Borders Build Nations. Nonsense—words Do. Beliefs, Declarations, Constitutions—words. Stories. Myths. Lies. Promises. History.” Will Grabbed The Sheaf Of Newspaper Clippings He Kept In A Stack On His Desk. “this, And These”—he Gestured To The Library’s Teeming Shelves—“they’re A Testament To The Country’s Rich Supernatural History.

We Don't Look At Each Other Anymore. Not Really. Not Since I Pulled Him From That Opium Den. Now When I Look At Him, I See The Addict. And When He Looks At Me, He Sees What He Would Rather Not Remember. I Wish I Could Be His Adored Little Girl Again, Sitting At His Side.

Agent Jones Switched To The Big Screen And A Grainy Video Of Momo Sitting At His Enormous Desk, A Swivel-hipped Elvis Clock Ticking Behind His Bewigged Head. 'death To The Capitalist Pigs! Death To Your Cinnamon Bun-smelling Malls! Death To Your Power Walking And Automatic Car Windows And I'm With Stupid T-shirts! The Republic Of Chacha Will Never Bend To Your Side-of-fries -drive -through-please-oh-would-you-like-ketchup-with-that Corruption! Momo B. Chacha Defies You And All You Stand For, And One Day, You Will Crumble Into The Sea And We Will Pick Up The Pieces And Make Them Into Sand Art.

I've Been Poked And Prodded In Places I'd Always Prided Myself On Keeping Untouched For That One Special Doctor Who Gives Me A Ring And A Promise Someday.