I walked into her classroom and said, “Those really are nice flowers.”Gwen gave a slight grin and said, ‘The nicest I have ever got.”“That i... too bad,” I said, “A girl needs simple symbols of love on a regular basis. We need to feel loved.”“I don’t feel too loved right now,” she said with a frown.“What’s wrong? What did he do?”“He won’t be home for Valentine’s Day. He will be in Toronto. He won’t even be in the same country. Some special conference.”“Fuck off,” I said, “That bastard. He knows. "Anyway, I guess since you care about animals, I'd like to think that there is somebody inside of you that I could like." As a friend?" Yes, as a friend."After a somewhat cordial goodbye was issued and the call disconnected, Suzanne wondered if Brett was really genuine about his feelings. "What if he was?" she thought. She decided to be cautious. Even if there wasn't any attraction and she knew there never would be, maybe this would be a chance to make a real friend. Most of her friends were. Now, it was old and dry, bereft of youth and fertility.“To protect us, I think. The memories are vague, but this much I can interpret. Down here, wherever here is, the Paladins were unlikely to find us.”Shenla feebly grabbed at him with scrawny hands. “I am weak, brother. Are we dying?”Maloth thought for a moment, fighting his foggy mind. Their mother had placed some sort of magic force around them for their protection, which had probably worn off some time ago, allowing their energy to drain. Looking at each other in confusion, Mrs. Smither shrugged and was about to get a broom and dustpan when they heard a door slam on the second floor. Mr. Smither retrieved his shotgun, cracked it open and inserted two new shells, then snapped it shut. Stuffing extra cartridges into his pocket, the two hobbled up the stairs. Mr. Smither kept a finger on the trigger as the muzzle of his shotgun led the way, cautiously conducting a room by room search. Mrs. Smither crouched behind her husband with a.