“There wasn’t much to coo at when driving along a post-apocalyptic motorway. A stalled vehicle here, a mini pile-up there.”

“But then again, Cinderella didn’t live in a post-apocalyptic world invaded by avenging angels.”

“Dude. Post-apocalyptic world. Who does job applications anymore?” “I do.” I squint at it, then him. “What are you paying me?” I angle. “Dude. Post-apocalyptic world. Who does money anymore.” I snicker. First sign of any sense of humor he’s shown. Then I remember where I am and why. I wad it up and throw it at him. It bounces off his chest.”

“Experience: the vehicle of history. Teenagers: the driving force behind fatal accidents.”

“Asleep, he looks like a bleeding Prince Charming chained in the dungeon. When I was little, I always thought I’d be Cinderella, but I guess this makes me the wicked witch.But then again, Cinderella didn’t live in a post-apocalyptic world invaded by avenging angels.”

“My eyes pop out when I catch a glimpse of how much leg she's showing. She's wearing her shortest mini skirt, the one that drives me crazy. Her legs look about a mile long as she crosses them and bobs her foot in time with the cafe's background music.She's really trying to kill me, isn't she?”