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Edge of Thorns 3 - Pt 17Part 17
Something to pass the time is better than nothing.
"I'm too paranoid to sleep now," Nathan said, only half joking. "Is there anything we can make that doesn't involve the oven? I think some sweets may ease everyone's nerves." He looked at Lidia in his arms, who had stopped crying but was still curled closely to him.
Enya smiled and lifted one shoulder, starting back into the kitchen. "We can check. I think I spotted some no-bake boxes in there when I was hunting for stuffing ingredients. Let's go take a look."
The writer nodded and carefully stood, Lidia adjusting her hold while he carried her. Once in the kitchen, he set the child on the chair she'd been sitting in before, then turned to look at the open pantry while Enya skimmed through it.
"Hmm," she mumbled, grabbing the first box she spotted. "How does peanut butter bars sound? Looks like he's got two boxes here; we could make a double batch."
Nathan moved behind her and nodded. "Sounds like a plan to me."
Edge of Thorns 3 - Pt 15Part 15
She's young; showing her will probably be the easiest way to explain, without getting into too many complicated details.
Nathan drew a deep breath, held it, then released it slowly. "I think," he said carefully. "I think it would be easier to show her." He cast a glance at Alton. "Trying to explain things would get complicated, but she should at least know there are... angels about?"
Putting his glasses on again and staring at him curiously, a small smile spread across the bookseller's lips. "I suppose, for a child so young, simple is probably best." He looked on into the kitchen. "Though it's a shame that I must be her introduction, and not one of the other, more angelic two."
"Don't say that." Nathan could hear the sadness in his tone. "There are times where you are far more angel than devil yourself."
"Of course," Alton agreed bitterly, giving him a smirk. "I could hardly call myself the father of lies if I wasn't also the master of all forms of deception. Seem
Edge of Thorns 3 - Pt 14Part 14
I know: I'll tell him about Wren. There is plenty to worry about his safety.
The writer sighed. He really couldn't give him more information without telling too much. "I'm worried about Wren," he finally admitted. "It's bad enough I've got to deal with these sisters, and (like you mentioned) I've been in the hospital plenty for it. But I didn't lose and arm, and I'm not completely incapacitated. He's just a kid, Scott; what if they try to finish him off?"
The reporter frowned and nodded slowly, as if he was carefully considering this information. "Yeah, I can see why that'd worry you." He began to rise from his seat. "Well, I've done my prying. I think I'll spend the rest of my evening going for a ride while the weather's still good for it. Enjoy the leftovers." Scott made his way over to the door, but stopped, looking back. "You doing anything for Thanksgiving? Enya's made her own plans to spend it with Alton and his group, and being that it's right around the co
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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