~The bandit’s body slumped to the ground, knees hitting first,followed by the rest.His dead weight pushed dust into the air in a swirling cloud.The blood flowed from his head,splicing like river canals,delaying slightly on pebbles before flowing on through the street.~
You are going to love some of your characters because they are you, or some facet of you, and you are going to hate some characters for the same reason. — Anne Lamott
