Revenge: it's a dream of flames fueled by scorched remains that are lit to a torch and brought back upon the one who burned you.
Close your eyes and turn your face into the wind.Feel it sweep along your skin in an invisible ocean of exult
The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration
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Close your eyes and turn your face into the wind.Feel it sweep along your skin in an invisible ocean of exult
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Bill suited the action to the word, getting up and leaning over the handlebars and pumping the pedals at a lunatic rate. Looking at Bill's back, which was amazingly broad for a boy of eleven-going-on-twelve, watching it work under the duffel coat, the shoulders slanting first one way and then the other as he shifted his weight from one pedal to the other, Richie suddenly became sure that they were invulnerable...they would live forever and ever.
It was not a noisy wind but the kind that suggests something very big and thin fresh from the horror of Infinite Space.
This isn__ how things were supposed to happen. I was supposed to be me. Not this.
Blame is the creed of the disempowered.