realisticfiction

He picked out a neon-green Sour Patch Kid and held it in front of her face. "Do you accept this little sugar man and his mission to bring you peace and fulfillment with the risk of a major sugar crash to follow?""I do," she said. "I accept the terms of the tiny sugar man, and the wrath of my impossible mother.

I know what you mean", she said. "Families can seem so normal and boring from the inside that you don't know you're different until someone else makes you feel different.

In a really good thrift store you feel like you're in a room with all of these stories, and it's up to you to go and find the stories that you want to bring home with you. And then when you wear the clothes, they help you tell a new story, but they're bringing that old part with them and with you and you're benefiting from that in a way that you can't even really understand.

I know you think that we saved you or something, Jeremy," he said. "That we were stronger than you. But we're not. We weren't. We're all just trying to survive however we can.

Wow," Mira said, looking around, "super fun.""When do they bring out the pig's blood and dump it on the head of the awkward girl with telekinetic powers?" Sebby asked."Not until ten, I think.""Well, what are we supposed to do until then? This was not well planned.

Are you just hoping to see some boobs, Rose?" Sebby asked. "Is that what this is about?""Oh yeah," Rose said. "I've got a one-track mind and it's all about JV boobs.

Bartender," she said to an invisible person, "a Jeremy special." She grabbed two plastic cups. "Coming right up," she replied to herself.The Jeremy special ended up being an elaborate mix of fruit juices and vodka, and wasn't half bad."i think you have a successful bartending career ahead of you," I said as we made our way into the living room."Later I'll make you the Sebby special," she said. "It's used to remove paint from cars.

Rose, this is Sebby," she said. "Sebby, Rose.""Oh yeah. Sebastian, right?" Rose said. "I've hard about you.""Only terrible things, I hope.""The worst.

Look. Vegan, gluten-free quiche.""What exactly makes it quiche?""Well, the shape, I guess. It's quiche shaped.""Sounds great.""Your sarcasm is not appreciated.""Sounds gross.""Thank you. Honesty.

What if the insane are too raw to know which stations are real and which are just confused static?

And I love that all their overdone liberal bullshit totally backfired," he said. "Of course it did. People are assholes. End of story.""The world according to Sebastian Tate.""It's a philosophy that has gotten me far in life.

I picked up the blue tube again, unscrewed the cap, and squeezed a perfect line of paint onto the palate. As soon as I brushed it on the canvas, I was responsible for it, for the inevitable imperfections. My world had always been like that paint, left on a palate. That color was a passive observer. But not it wanted to make something of itself. And I was terrified.