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It’s a cloudless summer day in northern New Hampshire,
Daddy Andrew showed her. He grew up on a farm in Vermont,
there was no cell phone service at the cabin.
it took them twenty-one minutes and forty-nine seconds to drive the length of the dirt road.
He might be taller than anyone she has ever met, and he’s as wide as a couple of tree trunks pushed together.
Too many people have smiles that don’t mean what a smile is supposed to mean. Their smiles are often cruel and mocking, like how a bully’s grin is the same as a fist. Worse are the confused and sad smiles from adults.
Leonard looks okay.
Daddy Andrew teaches at Boston University.
Daddy Fun was the mostly playful nickname for the family worrier and the one quickest to say no. Daddy Eric,
“I think everyone should use first names. It’s more friendly. I don’t get why I have to call people Mr. and Miss and Mrs. just because they’re older.
“I am twenty-four and a half years old. The half is still important to me.”
I used to have nightmares all the time about being eaten or squashed by T. rex.”
“Just because you have a scar doesn’t mean you have something wrong with you,
Three people turn the corner onto the driveway: two women and one man. They are dressed in blue jeans and button-down shirts of different colors; black, red, and white. The taller of the two women has white skin and brown hair, and her white shirt is a different kind of white than Leonard’s. His shirt glows like the moon, whereas hers is dull, washed, almost gray.
The shorter woman wears a black shirt, and at the end of her wooden handle is a pinwheel of raking claws, crooked metal fingers jammed together into a large ragged ball so her tool looks like the most dangerous lollipop in the world.
The other woman wears the off-white shirt and at the end of her tool is a single blade head, bent and curled over itself at one end, like a scroll, and then tapering into a right triangle with a sharp point at the other.
Eric prides himself on being western-Pennsylvania friendly,
even the best dads in the world worry and nag and fuck up,
She has decided it is a weapon, something only a bad person or an orc would dare construct and carry.
The most important gifts are often the ones we wish with all our hearts to refuse.
No one makes good decisions when they are hungry.”
Why do adults keep telling her that dark makes heads better? She thinks they’re lying and that they lie way more than any kid ever does.
“Sacrifices are required and will be made, one way or another, whether we like it or—”
“Within the kernel of end-times awe and ecstasy is the seed of all organized religions.”
