We Hate Most In Others What We

That Disapproving Look Was Back In Her Eyes. Her Teacher Face. The One That Could Make You Squirm From Ten Paces, Even If You Were Innocent. And I Hadn't Been Innocent For Years.

I Hate Being Awake At Three In The Morning. It Is The Godforsaken Heart Of Darkness When The Body Runs Slow, And The Brain Runs Slower, And All You Want To Do Is Sleep. But I Had Promises To Keep, And Miles To Go Before I Could Sleep. Or At Least A Couple Of Miracles To Perform Before I Could Go To Bed.

Would You Truly Sleep With Strangers?" "i Don't Know, I Haven't Met The Strangers Yet.

When Sex Is Necessary For The Plot Of A Book, Or A Character Development, Then I Don't Shy Away From It. Why Should I?

It Was Like Noticing The Sun. You Couldn't Help But See It, To Turn To Face The Heat Of It, To Bask In The Glory Of It. But Often When The Sun Is High In The Sky, The Moon Is Up There, Too. A Dim Memory Of What She Will Be In The Night, But There, Nonetheless, Dim And Misty, Hard And White. At Night, There Is Only The Moon, The Sun Is Nowhere To Be Seen. There Are No Distractions When The Moon Rules The Sky.