Jennifer Ellision

The only promise life fulfills is its end.

If they tell me one more time that I'm using the wrong fork for a part of a meal, I swear I'll show them exactly how multifunctional the utensil can be.

Wishes, I am finding, are fickle things when they turn on you.

Do I look the sort to cause trouble?" he asks. For the first time, he looks me directly in the eye. I catch my breath as his eyes slam into me. They're the gray of the sky right before a blizzard."Well, they did just throw you into a cell," I say, voice soft. "But, no." I break our gaze, finishing my thoughts silently.You like the sort that brings it.