“I paused with the pen in my hand. "He burst into flames?""He became engulfed in fire.""Was his buddy made out of orange rocks and at any point yell, 'It's clobbering time'?”

“Was his body made out of orange rocks and did he at any point yell 'It's clobbering time'?""I find your attempt at levity inappropriate.""Consider me properly chastised.”

“I wouldn't yell 'fire' at that slimeball if his ass was in flames.”

“He takes my right hand and places it palm down on his chest. Then he traces around it with the pen, craning his neck to see, giving himself double chins.'What are you doing?'He shifts my hand away and starts scratching out letters on his skin. 'I worked out a tattoo - if I had one.'I look at what he's done. He's got the outline of my hand over his heart and in it he's written, Her.”

“I had a moment to visualize Larry out in the dark all alone, unarmed except for his cross. The thought made my skin cold. I opened my mouth to yell at him and closed it. Never dress anyone down in public unless it's an object lesson. I said, "Any tracks?" I gave myself a dozen brownie points for yelling."Do I look like Tonto? Beside the ground is just grass and it's been so dry lately. I don't think there'd be any tracks.”

“He bent down burying his face in my neck. I reached back to grab onto the iron bars behind me to hold myself up. My jacket slipped off my shoulders. I was pretty sure I was on fire and at that moment I would have sworn that bursting into flame was a glorious way to go.”