Why Is It That All Cars Are

I Hope This Means You'll Quit Asking Me To Kill You. It Gives Me Indigestion.

A Second Floor Window Opened, And Kyle Stuck His Head And Shoulders Out So He Could Look Down At Us. “if You Two Are Finished Playing Cowboy And Indian Out There, Some Of Us Would Like To Get Their Beauty Sleep.” I Looked At Warren. “you Heard ‘um Kemo Sabe. Me Go To My Little Wigwam And Get ‘um Shut-eye.” “how Come You Always Get To Play The Indian?” Whined Warren, Deadpan. “cause She’s The Indian, White Boy,” Said Kyle.

She Sees Ghosts,” Said Samuel, Impatient With My Whining. I See Dead People,” I Deadpanned Back. Oddly, It Was Uncle Mike Who Laughed. I Hadn’t Thought He’d Be A Moviegoer.

He Had Lived A Very Long Time, And Only Since He Gained Anna Had He Learned To Fear. He’d Discovered That He Had Never Been Brave Before—just Indifferent. She Had Taught Him That To Be Brave, You Have To Fear Losing Something.

Where Does A Werewolf Sleep? Anywhere He Wants To.