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“The grunt pulled his collar up around his neck. “Butterfinger.” “Yeah.” Queho nodded, a smile spreading across his face. “Butterfinger. Good one. I liked that one. I always got the candy stuck between my teeth. Same with the Heath Bar.” He picked at his teeth with his finger. “Not worth the effort.” The grunt kept pace with Queho. The caravan was traveling more like an amorphous pack. The town’s wide streets accommodated the disorganization as the posse clopped along. Queho was so preoccupied with Dairy Queen, he didn’t notice. “I always got the chocolate chip cookie dough,” Queho said, licking his lips. “Oh, that was good. And remember? They’d hold it upside down?” He held out his hand to pantomime a Dairy Queen clerk holding a cup of ice cream upside down. “That way you knew how thick they made it.” The”
― Tom Abrahams, Home

“of rice and cans of beans, soup, and”
― Tom Abrahams, Home

“As far as the east is from the west,” he whispered to himself, “so far has he removed our transgressions from us.” Battle set his jaw.”
― Tom Abrahams, Home

“The probability of apocalypse soon cannot be realistically estimated, but it is surely too high for any sane person to contemplate with equanimity.” —Noam Chomsky”
― Tom Abrahams, Home