I kind of wish they’d shut up,” Jack said.
“Dude, true dat,” Lend answered.
Jack nodded solemnly. “For serious.
Fabulous" Jack said, reaching down and plucking a crimson flower. A small scream sounded from it as he severed the stem. He smiled maliciously, then started stomping with abandon through the beds of blossoms, a chorus of tinny, shrill screams punctuating every step.
Kiersten WhiteStichwörter: dance faeries jack dance-revolutions
Jack was balancing a spoon on his nose when I walked in.
"You," I said knocking it off his face.
"Me!" He answered cheerfully.
Stichwörter: jack evie endlessly holding-hands-with-boys
Since my hand was already pulled back, I went ahead and punched Jack.
"Bloody- What was that for?" he asked hand over his nose.
Tell you what." I closed the blade with a satisfying snick. "Remember that time you tried to kill me because I wouldn't open a gate to hell?"
"The memory's a bit fuzzy..."
I opened the knife again.
"Yes, now that you mention it, I do recall something like that happening, although my motivation was certainly never to kill you. Can't you view it as me inspiring you to figure out how to use the Paths? I didn't actually want you to die.
Stichwörter: jack evie endlessly holding-hands-with-boys
Something’s up,’ I say, handing the phone back.
‘Not necessarily,’ Jack says.
‘You think this is the first time Lila’s been hot-headed? Seriously, dude, you do remember my sister, right? Short, blonde, impulsive as shock therapy? Stubborn as a mule who won’t take no for an answer?’
Does Jack ever listen to himself?
Does he appreciate the irony of this statement? I shake my head at him in wonder.
‘Hey, I’m not short or blond,’ Jack protests as he catches the look on my face.
Jack stares at me blankly. ‘A what?’ he asks.
I choke back the laugh. ‘A boy. You know? A Y-chromosome holder? You don’t seem to notice them as much as you do the X-carriers.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Jack asks, ‘A boy? She’s just a kid.’
I hesitate, wondering how Jack is only just doing the maths on this one now. ‘She’s seventeen. She’s not a kid anymore.’
Jack looks like he’s about to go all Incredible Hulk and burst out of his clothes before rampaging through the bar. He jumps off the stool. ‘If any boy ever lays a finger on my sister, I’m going to kill him,’ he says.
Again I stare at him in silence, thinking of all the girls Jack has laid fingers and much more of his anatomy on besides. Poor Lila. If she ever wants to have a shot at a normal life, as in one that doesn’t require a vow of celibacy, she needs to stay in London.
You have always been what I want. I just made mistakes along the way. I told you that I would make it up to you, that I would show you what I could be for you, if you would only let me.
K.A. LindeHe looked down at the desk, at his notebook resting there with the pen on top. He had never thought of engineering as a way to escape the world; after all, engineers didn't build stories or other worlds.
Or, well, perhaps they did; perhaps, late at night, huddled around the boiler with the driver and the conductor, they told their own stories. Famous robberies in the west, derailments, perhaps even ghost trains or passengers long dead who still prowled the carriages.
Either way, Jack had turned his profession into his escape, which Ellis could respect.
Stichwörter: writing ellis jack engineering
Do Engineers have stories, Jack?" he asked.
"What?" Jack said, without moving.
"Stories. Myths. Things to keep the boredom out on a long shift."
"I think they play cards, mostly," Jack answered. It was a lie, but he told it with surprising deftness; not a waver in his voice or a hesitation in his words. Only the tightening of his shoulders told Ellis he was lying.
Stichwörter: writers ellis jack engineers
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