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Do you have a recipe?” “I’d need your firstborn child and hair follicles as payment,”
Duncan got the parrot and strode back to her with it. He looked so powerful. Like an action hero at the end of a movie, leaving a site seconds before an explosion went off behind him. He even carried the five-foot stuffed toy over his shoulder as one might carry a well-worn leather jacket.
“There could be a live possum in there and you wouldn’t know,” Duncan said. “His name is Terrance.” “What?” Duncan asked. “The live possum in my refrigerator? His name is Terrance.”
“But people change their minds. Circumstances change them,”

