(Post-credits scene: A celestial courtroom. An angel with a receding hairline slams a stack of paperwork on a desk. “Mr. Fender. We need to discuss your son’s unauthorized use of interdimensional portals during naptime. And also… the hamster.” Cut to black.)
She smiled. It was the first genuine, non-sarcastic smile I’d seen from her. Her horns sparkled.
“Hey,” she said, sleepy and soft. “Do you ever regret it?” (Post-credits scene: A celestial courtroom
As long as you had someone to share it with.
“Lilith,” I said, pulling her close. “The only thing I regret is that I didn’t have a better spring roll to offer you.” Fender
“I know,” she said. “You’re a nobody. I find it refreshing. Everyone in my life is a somebody . They all want something. You want nothing.”
I peed on a stick. Then another. Then five. It was the first genuine, non-sarcastic smile I’d
Damien can levitate blocks. He’s also learned how to unlock the child-safe latches on the cabinets. He refuses to eat anything that isn’t shaped like a dinosaur. Last week, he turned the cat into a small, furry cube. The cat was fine after an hour.
She was tall. Not supermodel tall— intimidating tall. Hair the color of a raven’s broken dream, cut into a jagged bob. Skin pale as fresh parchment. Lips that looked like they’d been stained with blackberries. And her eyes… they were the exact shade of a shallow, sun-drenched sea—turquoise, warm, and utterly, terrifyingly human.
I was in the middle of hyperventilating into a paper bag when my front door melted. Not broke down. Melted . Into a puddle of black goo that smelled of ozone and burnt sugar.