I hesitate, glancing at my phone out of discomfort, "There are... beings out there that aren't originally from here. They just aren't green with creepy eyes. They're human... mostly."
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
I glance up at her and flash a nervous smile, "My.. my brother. That's what he is. I'm not really sure what I am though. I come from the same place.. but I don't feel like that's home."
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
The bigger the issue, the smaller you write. Remember that. You don’t write about the horrors of war. No. You write about a kid’s burnt socks lying on the road. You pick the smallest manageable part of the big thing, and you work off the resonance. — Richard Price
