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For every woman who could save the world, because she learned how from books
Is this not the true romantic feeling; not to desire to escape life, but to prevent life from escaping you. THOMAS WOLFE
Adulthood seems to require different skills, ones I didn’t realize I needed. I’m also single. Apparently relationships require different skills too.
Ah, crusty old book spines and teeny tiny type, how I dream of thee.
I’m in Hell. Not the figurative kind, the literal kind. I’m sure you’re curious. What’s it like, then? Your feet toasty warm? Pitchfork poking your butt cheeks? That’s what you’re thinking. I can’t say I blame you. I’m told my butt cheeks are quite something. The early twenties are the peak butt years, or so the demonic laundress and tailor horde would have me believe.
“Careful is my middle name.” We both know it’s actually Astaroth, because he’s the former good angel, now bad angel, who introduced my father to my mother.
“Great,” a female voice says, and I recognize the sarcasm like I would my own, “you summoned a male model. What’s he going to do without a catwalk?”
Beside her is a person whose gender is on a spectrum that touches the masculine and the feminine. “Don’t taunt the demon,” I hear this person whisper. Their name is Mag.
In a ranking of cutest, most devastating expressions, his would be up there. I don’t want to get rid of him at all.
I’ve also read enough to know it doesn’t matter if you want to be chosen. There are the people who throw up their hands and let bad things happen and there are the people who stop them.
And unfortunately I seem a lot more interested in you than anything else in here. I don’t like that you’re upset. With me. So it’s hard for me to see past you and find what we’re looking for.”
“You guys weren’t involved with all that nonsense from her, right?” “Wouldn’t touch it.” Porsoth shudders.
Men are used to the entire world being kind to them. Anything else is a corrective.”
“Do not sleep in the room with a wolf just because he is old and tired.”
“Now you’re beginning to understand what being a pawn in the games of Heaven and Hell truly means. You will never be the center, Callie. The story will always be about the men. You’ll only be a casualty.”
How could anyone want the world to end with so many good dogs in it?
Luke puts a steadying hand against my back. “You did good,” he says. “Very convincing.” “I’m not a dog. I don’t need pats.”
And so into battle we go, two upstart pacifists against a universe that’s been spoiling for a fight for thousands of years.
We stopped the end times. Cue the party music.
Callie isn’t entirely human herself anymore. All that traveling back and forth combined with the extended contact with the Holy Lance. But we’ve agreed not to spoil the surprise. We’ll leave that secret for the two of them to discover.
