thoughtlets

"good news!" she exclaimed. robert had carefully prepared himself for this moment. he had a script in mind, a performance he had planned to give, but he knew that the realization of michelle's dream meant the death of his own, and now that the time had come, forcing a smile proved far more difficult than he had imagined. her face sank and he realized he had betrayed himself. suddenly, the haze of denial lifted and robert could see the future clearly for the first time in a long time. he felt alone.

"she's lovely, isn't she? her eyes, her hair, her smile, everything about her's just what the doctor ordered" he cooed with all the softness of a doting parent reading a fairytale to a child. "but she's mine, and if you keep it up, i'll make you go away" he added without skipping a beat.

everything rattled on the old train: the windows, the doors, the seats, the various shelves and compartments. it was as if the screws had been removed and the pieces were just resting in place, ready to come apart with one good jolt. though, screws or not, the train would certainly be in a thousand pieces shortly after reaching the station. the TERRORISTS had made certain of that.

it was certainly a different sort of charisma that jessica possessed. she wasn't charming, per se, and she certainly wasn't an electrifying speaker, but somehow she exuded a sense of belonging, as if she intuitively understood what was happening and she was naturally qualified to put everyone's fears to rest. she was the sort of person that would be perfectly suited to reassuring and quieting children, but she was a dangerous leader, willing and able to lead the team strolling happily off a cliff.

the moss was always wet. even on the hottest, driest day of the year, with the noon day sun glaring down on it, that moss could still soak your sneakers in a few steps. but the trek had to be made because the berries were on the other side of the field and there was every possibility that this would be the last season for them. today could easily be the last crumbly, gooey slice of pie-a-la-keith. the berries would still be there next year, of course, but kate had recently learned the hard way that a sense of having all the time in the world can be a costly indulgence.