Being an owl was simple. It was survival... An owl thinks only: fly, hunt, breed, live. People think, and wonder, and dream, and speak of it all.

I thought at first, even knowing you could not die, it seemed you could not live.

He would make her laugh every night that they made love. He would make love to her once for every time she giggled. She burst into laughter then, and he grinned. "That's one.

Women are already draped in so much fabric, there's hardly any need -- and Madeleine would have fits if she knew we were eating together this way, so poorly dressed. I can already hear her shocked gasp at the sight of your chest." She said it without looking up, as she took the seat he'd readied for her. "I can't imagine a patch of any man's chest should shock you," he said, taking his own seat across from her, after she had been settled. "By all accounts, you wandered naked in the Garden.

Tears are like rain to the Devil: they fill his black heart with sharp, ugly blossoms of laughter.

You were the first boy I ever kissed. Is that right?" "I would hope so," he said, his mouth soft as he smiled. "You were ten years old." I laughed but I felt tears building in my throat and burning my eyes. "You kissed me in the orchard. I dared you to do it." A memory flicked by, the orchard in bloom, heavenly scents, the thrum of bees in the blossoms. "I wanted to, I promise ---" his laughing face, so close to mine.

Annie stared into the flames for a while and then cleared her throat. "Has it occurred to you that maybe there's actually a monster out there?" she asked.

I promise I won't laugh at you if you sneak out to bury a few Pink Ladies at the roots of our trees this December. Assuredly, you'll be doing your part for next year's crop. And who knows? You might find some buried treasure - be it gold or simple gifts of the spirit. Happy holidays!

Hello. Do I know you?" She smiled, showing surprisingly tiny white teeth, like a baby's, swaddled in pink gums. She said "Esmeralda Ulloa, I would hope that you know me. But I doubt you do." I rocked back on my heels as she leaned in close, her black eyes snapping. "Tell your uncle I have what he's looking for," she said softly. "And if he asks me nicely, I might give it to him." She smiled again. "I'd rather give it to you, though. If you ask.

The Story of the Volcano, An Aztec Myth Once upon a time there was a princess named Iztaccihuatl, more beautiful than any woman, and a handsome warrior Popocatepetl, who loved her. They were to be married, and all the kingdoms rejoiced...