One of those times," he said, "I think I'd take a nap.
Jeri Smith-ReadyHe grabbed the microphone in both hands, his face exploding into a smile at the sensation.
“Hey. Do not. I repeat. Do. Not. Panic. There’s nothing to be scared of. This is just your average everyday fucking miracle.
I’ll always love you.”
“I’ll love you, too.” He touched my face. “Forever.
You know what would be cool, next time?" said a voice behind me. "Black roses.
Jeri Smith-ReadyThis was Bad with a capital Hell No.
Jeri Smith-ReadyShane closes his eyes and groans deep in his throat, a noise that embodies sex and death. His back arches, and his fingers rake the carpet as if to pull it up like grass.
Jeri Smith-ReadyParents, preachers, and politicians think rock music is the source of young people's despair. They don't understand it's just a reflection. They also forget that music can be a source of hope, a reason to live.
Jeri Smith-ReadyIgnorance is the world's most curable affliction.
Jeri Smith-ReadyAs he presses me against the car and his fingers tangle in my hair, I find myself hoping-and fearing-that I'll never be the object of such a love, one that could bring a man to his knees and never let him stand again.
Jeri Smith-ReadyOkay.” The boy placed his hands on the table. “The thing is … I died before I got to see real live tits. Not just on the Internet.” He hurried to add, “I wouldn’t touch you or nothing. Obviously. But even if I could, I wouldn’t do that to you.” He looked at his hands as he dropped them into his lap. “I just want to see.
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