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I have to admit that it took me a long time to appreciate that last point. When I go back and save my friends from their fates they still end up dying differently. But dead though.

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curtain was raised to reveal Brenda's new painting, American Guernica: Lafayette Park. It was less Picasso than it was Dali or Duchamp or Magritte. A gasp went around the MoMa as

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still required practice in believing it or it wouldn't work. Once you see it you'll be baffled why it was so hard the first time. The Liminal was where you could choose your next

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Number me already off track. She can beg me to remember her but I won't know why. Because she begged me to? Doesn't seem seemly somehow. That might be the Mid-Westerner in me.

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Breathing for himself was a new experience for him. Onboard didn't count since the Ship was maintaining the atmosphere. Here, it was just him and the inhalation of unfiltered air.

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every Tuesday night. A good man. Now. Raewon Felcher hadn't always been a good man. He used to be a snotty punk kid kicking it around the block with his crew. Playing or trading Ma

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Then she heard chuckling inside her head. Her clearly not dead body went into Fight mode. This elicited outright laughter inside her mind. "The dead pray for pain." She blacked out

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"Hello?" The voice croaked as it reached the ears of its next victim, "I know you heard me. You asked if I wanted to play? I haven't played in at least a century."

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"What? You're saying you can't feel that? I felt it as soon as my finger grazed the surface!" "Yeah, well I haven't had as much experience as you, have I?"

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"I'm sorry, they last time I did this I was a lot younger." James said to the man next to him. "Next time we should just stick to boxing, this whole sword thing is