Oh, get off it with that. So sensitive about language. Mate, love, nest, whatever. Point is, it stinks, especially when it goes bad. I get wanting to run away.

Sounds like a great place to get killed. Hard pass.

Nothing is off-limits to me, tiny human. You think the desire in your heart is buried, but I couldn't ignore it if I tried! It means this: you want me to peace out? Shut it all down? Fine! I'll go! But you'll never get your next wish. Your secret wish. [. .] A mother's love. A father you know. A world at peace. A sky of stars. This could be yours . . . or you could lose it forever. And I can go. Doesn't matter to me, you finite speck.

Tommy and Scootie locked eyes. Only minutes ago, he wouldn't have believed that he could ever have felt such a kinship with the Labrador as he felt now.

Her fierce and fearful friend --who loved country music and cherry Pop Tarts and singing in public and the color pink, who was terrified of germs and dogs and ladders.

The panic crawled throughout his limbs like a million tiny newborn spiders.