Thursday, November 01, 2012


When I was young, Nate protected me from others at school. He didn't know I could and would stop them. We were all damaged, so his defense was precious.

Under a blood-moon, we swore oaths of brotherhood. He meant every word – then and now – but he suffers for it.

“Seth,” he says, “you awake, lucid?”

I open my eyes, nod.

“We’re coming up on the farm. Are you with me?”

I hate that he has to ask. His mistrust grows like a tumor, but removal must wait. I tap my magic, check my gun, and follow him into the darkness.


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