“I felt sorry for myself since my wimpy dom can’t catch a snail crossing the sidewalk.”

“Oh, my! I'm so sorry, my lord!" I apologised, my voice coated with sarcasm. "As hardy as I am, it's just impossible to catch myself when I trip.”

“I felt like I was choking. My words came out hoarsely as I gasped for air, as I allowed myself to feel. “It hurts more than I know what to do with. I can’t handle this. I can’t.”

“Lauren returned her phone to her ear. “Jenny!” she snapped, “I don’t have time right now. I need your help. I can’t move Nick by myself and I can’t leave him on the ground. He’ll catch a cold—”“A cold?” Jennifer interrupted. “You can’t leave him on the ground because he’ll catch a cold? How ’bout you can’t leave him on the ground because he’s Nick Blackthorne?”

“I unbuttoned my white shirt and reknotted it under by breasts. I felt like one of those circus 'quick change' acts – ta-dah, no more Wimpy Wendy, now we have Slinky Phee rising from the ashes.”

“I left the library. Crossing the street, I was hit head-on by a brutal loneliness. I felt dark and hollow. Abandoned, unnoticed, forgotten, I stood on the sidewalk, a nothing, a gatherer of dust. People hurried past me. and everyone who walked by was happier than I. I felt the old envy. I would have given anything to be one of them.”