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Falling Feathers Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen: Devil's Play
A very soft morning light touched Crovix's face and her eyes fluttered open to stare at a soft dark blue sky, slowly becoming lighter. Her whole body felt tense and constricted, but this was only because she had slept on the ground with her clothes on the previous night. Although her bed had been made of moss and dirt with a few rocks it had not been the worst sleep she'd ever had though. Crovix drew her arms around her body in the cold and found that she was sleeping under something. She immediately looked down to see what was covering her and saw that it was Hace's long black cloak, which was surprisingly warmer that she'd expected, making her wonder what kind of conditions Hace had been through before coming to Death City.
Crovix turned over on her side to see the motorcycle standing between where she slept and where Hace should be sleeping, but he was not there. She gasped and sat up quickly glancing around at the forest beyond th
Falling Feathers Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve: Tail Between Your Legs
"Niu!" Crovix cried dragging Hace through the front door and sitting him down at the kitchen table, his arm covered in blood and his eyes wide.
"I-I I k-killed... I-I k-" Hace faltered touching his other arm and face so he spread the blood across his skin, but he didn't seem to notice.
"Here, here, just wash it off," Crovix said, also shaken by the previous event, taking a wet dishtowel to his face and wiping the blood off his cheek, then handing him the rag.
"I killed him," Hace repeated balling the towel in his hands and ringing the water onto the floor.
"He never would have died if I hadn't been so stupid!" Crovix exclaimed, desperately wanting to slap him across the face, but not having enough guts to do it.
"I've never killed anyone before!" Hace screamed.
"I thought Legion killed witches!" Crovix shouted just as loudly, trying to get through to him.
"We do! But killing you would be my initiation! I've never k
Parenting for Sex AddictsThe half-day.
We are not those folks that need an occasion to try. And that’s what they call it, too. Trying. As if the very idea of it is taxing. It’s not taxing and we are not those people.
No. We do not go by some magical calendar. Schedules aren’t really our thing in general. That’d be too organized. Too stuffy. Too… I don’t know… too planned. And we’re not the type of people whom plan.
If we could—plan—our lives would be much different. I think. It’s hard to say because this is how we’ve always been.
Our very togetherness is a result of impulse. I’m almost certain that the amount of time it took us to decide to move in together was significantly shorter than the amount of time it took us to remember each other’s names. We might have had our first conversation moments after that first… what I mean to say is we didn’t plan. Because planning would have been much t
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