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Not quite The words are true, verbatio
Incredible, the brain’s consistency
I’ve planned thisfor some time, and prayed it would happen before Sevro found this chief prize On the day my son disappeared, the uard arrived at his Endy only his blood behind It’d been sprayed with an agent to destroy its DNAsmoke
“When I was a child…” I begin
“Oh Jove, a story”
I s this is Does he not notice the ache at the back of his skull?
“—ens Votuens Votuirl and easily bored I looked at Mercury and I did not see iron or political intrigue I saw a strange, violent little planet with a Master Maker who carved desert les so deep and dark you’d think you’d lost the sun and ended up on Pluto
“I begged Father to let ed Till at last even he could not do anything but send me off It was a ridiculous procession Votuuard and le There were ine But there was one that arrested me One that reminds me of you
“It was a scene I witnessed at dusk not far fro a zebracore drink frole moved and a bush hydra struck from the treeline It choked the zebracore to death and then unhinged its jaw to shole I’d never seen anything like it There it lay, perversely gorged and supine Right there, on the bank of the river Couldn’t believe le sarissa ant discovered it You know of thehrise Soon there were two ants Then ten Then a le And, as the hydra lay glutted on the ground, too full to escape, I watched them devour it till all that was left was a skeleton around another skeleton”
He’s been excreting pheromones at a phenomenal rate “Don’t you think we’d be better without all those eyes watching us?” he purrs His eyelashes flutter “I wither under lights Wouldn’t you like to turn off the cameras?” he asks “So much stress on those shoulders of yours Wouldn’t you like release?” His tongue wets his upper lip “I can do that You’ll believe you’ve ascended into the clouds of Jupiter”
I lean forward, as if drawn to hissound
His eyes go rancid “Cold bitch”
“Waste of hair”
He sneers because my insult was better, and leans back “They all say you’re the brightest star in all the heavens, a face to els weep and ameat like all the rest Aren’t you?” He sniffs “I can s fro, your mind murmurs of the madness that ate your psychotic brother and wanders to the fate of your in to wonder if you’re not a tragedy instead of a triu ive you allowance to make such opera out of your childhood” He bats his eyes and leans forward, mouth open seductively “Honestly—”