en

Thomas Olde Heuvelt

  • nigohosyanmarinahas quoted8 months ago
    It took a long time before he fell asleep, totally exhausted. And when he finally did, he dreamt of owls, big owls with silky wings and golden eyes that hunted in the night.
  • nigohosyanmarinahas quoted8 months ago
    Once is enough, Steve thought, but he said nothing. He had accepted the reality that Fletcher was more likely dead than lost. It’s cats that always come home. Cats are drifters, gangsters. If a dog runs away from home, it turns into one of those dramatic episodes that almost never has a happy ending. The faithful old pooch who wouldn’t hurt a fly but chases a rabbit into the woods and ends up in a trap and dies. The beloved hound who never runs off but climbs out of his basket one day and gets run over on a busy road. It’s gruesome, the way a dog meets his fate. It almost seems predestined
  • nigohosyanmarinahas quoted8 months ago
    three skeleton trees
  • nigohosyanmarinahas quoted8 months ago
    Their eyes were open and stared at him accusatorily with cloudy, ivory-colored corneas that made him think of the toadstools in the fairy ring, the ring he’d broken.…
  • nigohosyanmarinahas quoted8 months ago
    It was a moment that would have a deep impact on all of them for the rest of their lives, and it was never to be forgotten. Indeed, it was to be cherished … for the confrontation it presented meant acceptance, and that was a first step toward the day when the pain would stop and warm memories would begin
  • nigohosyanmarinahas quoted8 months ago
    And didn’t He say that the punishment would have four faces: the plague, the sword, famine, and, uh … eh…” The sheep farmer touched the screen of his tablet. When it didn’t respond, he tapped it several more times irritably. “Exile!”
  • nigohosyanmarinahas quoted8 months ago
    It was as if time had come full circle
  • nigohosyanmarinahas quoted8 months ago
    Robert Grim cut off the conversation, his thoughts wandered off to dwell on a tempting fantasy in which he bit off Colton Mathers’s scrotum, spat it out, and beat his convulsing testicles to a pulp with a croquet mallet on his mother’s old butcher block. It’s wasn’t a very soothing thought, but it gave him a joyless satisfaction nonetheless.
  • nigohosyanmarinahas quoted8 months ago
    primitive human urge to channel fear, transform it into rage … and find a scapegoat
  • nigohosyanmarinahas quoted8 months ago
    Since the blood first showed on Saturday, the seven-member HEX staff
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