I made a wish on this tree years ago," Marco says.

"What did you wish for?" Bailey asks.

Marco leans forward and whispers in Bailey's ear. "I wished for her.

I'm a firm believer that lighting affects mood, and twinkly lights on strings bring something magical to occasions ranging from concerts to weddings, though I'm fond of using them as year-round home decor.

Because I do not wish to know,” he says. “I prefer to remain unenlightened, to better appreciate the dark.

That's the beauty of it. Have you seen the contraptions these magicians build to accomplish the most mundane feats? They are a bunch of fish covered in feathers trying to convince the public they can fly, I am simply a bird in their midst.

What happened?" Bailey asks.
"That is somewhat difficult to explain," Tsukiko answers. "It is a long and complicated story."
"And you're not going to tell me, are you?"
She tilts her head a bit ... "No, I am not," she says.
"Great," Bailey mutters under his breath... "The bonfire exploded? How?"
"Remember when I said it was difficult to explain? That has not changed.

I paint very messy. I throw paint around. So when I let myself do the same sort of thing with my writing, and I would just write and write and write and revise, that's when I found my rhythm in writing.