the face whispered. The voice was that of embers crackling.Tim shook his head.“Kill.”“No,” Tim whispered back at the fire.A thin sliver of flame leaped from the fireplace, like a finger pointing. It was gesturing towards the poker.“Use it. Feed me.”“Fuck off,” Tim hissed, clamping his eyes shu...
The counselor didn’t come cheap. She had an uptown office that had been designed by an expert to be perfectly bland, perfectly unthreatening. It was a vision in beige, gentle on the eye, not a sharp edge in sight and soft carpeted from wall to wall. The blinds were pulled in case the view outside...
