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Uh, yeah, I do. The scythe was a little tricky at first, but—much like golf—turns out it’s all in the swing.

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
Yeah
Turns
Littles
Scythes
Little
Scythe
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Tricky
First
Swing
Much
Swings
Like
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I should have mixed something stronger than Coke floats.
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I fell into that kiss like Alice into Wonderland, headfirst and flailing, heart pounding the whole time. The world spun around me and still I fell, and I only crashed down to earth again when someone called my name.
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It's kind of like when a clock battery runs down. The hour and minute hands don't disappear, but they don't keep ticking either. They freeze on the last minute they measured.
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I don't have you, and without you, it feels like what I do have doesn't matter.
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Some day soon, reaper, your mouth is going to be the source of your own destruction. That does seem likely, doesn’t it? Tod glanced at me and shrugged. Until then, it remains a source of my own amusement.
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Why do I always have to be the one who says 'stop'? I demanded, my voice little more than a moan. You don't. In fact, at this point I'm considering a petition to that word stricken from the English language. His grin was almost lazy, the gleam in his eyes an effortless challenge. If I did, would you sign?
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