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Saturday
Mar142020

Meg Gardiner

Was it hard to watch people go?
No. Breathing afterward, every day, was harder.

Running cured almost anything. It eased pain; it exhilarated; it served as penance and validation. It turned lone wolf into a compliment. Running was objective – the stop-watch never lied. Races judged competitors on how long and hard they could run fast, not on a coach’s decision to play favorites with the starting lineup. Running was pure.

I've been an investigator longer than you've been playing Vulcan Mind Meld with dead people.

Fight or flight. When you have to jump, do it.

But fate was a myth constructed by fools—people who gamble or follow horoscopes, who believe the stars rule their lives.

The thing was, Zero liked breaking things. He saw no reason why the world should be allowed to stay hole.

God save us from people who think they know what’s best for us.

She didn't want to wait. Didn't want caution, or care, or tender exploration. She needed touch, sensation, raw blank sex to overwhelm her circuits. She held on to him, and they were all arms and elbows and grasping hands...She didn't want to talk-to talk would be to break the spell, the new thing that was happening, herself coming back into the world, with another damaged person as her guide.


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