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October 11 - October 16, 2022
“Good,” I muttered. Nothing was good. Everything was crap.
I stood alone in the kitchen, furious and embarrassed by my inability to act like a socially capable human being,
Most people couldn’t have ignored a demon sharing the library with them, but most people didn’t love books as much as I did.
Then again, if someone had locked me in a tiny circle for weeks and weeks, I’d probably feel murderous too.
Curious and impulsive, my mom had called me. A volatile combination. Clearly, I still hadn’t learned my lesson.
Maybe the key to my confidence issues was conducting all interactions through an impenetrable barrier.
Things I hated: confrontation, any form of spotlight, and not knowing what I was doing in a strange place in front of strange people. This was my social-insecurities nightmare.
What could I say? “Stop stereotyping contractors”? Or maybe, “Petite, bespectacled bookworms can be power-hungry, soul-selling contractors too”?
Uncovering ancient history was one of my favorite things ever, and it was the best sort of excuse to read all kinds of fascinating new books. Yeah, I was that much of a nerd.
“What do female demons do?” “They eat and drink and lounge and raise young. And kill males.”
I could’ve walked the entire distance, but that would’ve meant thirty minutes alone with my thoughts.
“Mercy is for the weak, payilas.” “The weak can’t afford mercy.” I met his eyes. “I think we can.”
Bethany McCrady liked this
“Second rule, my friend. Let’s not destroy something before we understand it.”

