Can I Come In? No! I'm In

When Did They Start Coming After You?” “was It—was It After The Oil- Slick Hummer Crash?” The Gasman Asked Iggy Tentatively. My Eyes Widened. Oil-slick Hummer Crash? Iggy Rubbed His Chin, Thinking. “or Maybe It Was More---after The Bomb,” The Gasman Said In A Low Voice, Looking Down. “i Think It Was The Bomb,” Iggy Agreed. “that Definitely Seemed To Tick Them Off.” “bomb?” I Asked Incredulously.

A Friend Of Mine Once Defined Love As Finding Someone You Can Talk To Late Into The Night

Listen, Street Punk. You're A Guy, And You're A Couple Inches Taller, And Maybe Forty Pounds Heavier, And Ooh, You're In A Gang. But I've Survived Ten Years Of Catholic School, And I Will Cut You Off At Your Knees Without A Blink. Do You Understand?

He's Gonna Be Fine," I Confirmed. Can We See Him?" Iggy Asked. Ig, I Hate To Break It To You, But You're Blind.

I Hung My Head, And I Felt Someone, Fang, Gather Me Gently To Him. My Cheek Rested On His Shoulder, And My Silent Tears Soaked His Torn Shirt.he Felt Warm And Strong And Heartbreakingly Familiar. And At That Moment, Not A Single Thing In My Life Was Certain, Strong, Or Whole. Nothing. Least Of All Fang.