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Pan's eyes lit up. "I have met God."
Hume paused in the dealing. Roberts's mouth turned into a grim smile. "You've met God, have you, you heathen prick?"
Pan nodded. "I have. God is a white man."
The universe, as far as I can tell, is held together with embarrassingly small kindnesses.
Himmel has had a pretty rough week. Hall has had a fantastic week. They both would go gay for Michael B. Jordan. That glass is always half full, gang.
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Its cover was plain linen, the color of fossilized limestone. There was no author. No publication date. The first page contained only a sentence.
I have been waiting for you.