Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Mid-Week Words

from the Journal, entry dated Oct. 15 2013-
I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship yet, and the idea of dating is still oh so sickeningly dull and passionless that the word tastes stale on my tongue, but I no longer feel as if I or anything else is holding me back from the possibility. I feel open to it. I don't feel as if I'm hiding my healing wounds anymore. I feel free. And as if I am personally and spiritually moving towards a great and indescribable something.
If there was a time when someone wanted me in their lives, now would be the time to act. For right now I am experiencing something most remarkable, something passionate and wild and thrilling, and I would love nothing more then to share it with the right person.
Don't wait or hesitate, the sun, the moon, and the stars do not. The shifting seas do not pause, and neither do I.

from the Sigil of Azazel, chapter 4-
"The girl," Charron croaked, sputtered a cough, and continued, "she's been taken." He straightened himself upright, but Charron was always hunched, the demeaning stance of one who had spent a lifetime cowering to others. Cowering was a good way to stay alive in the service of elders of high rank for as long as possible. "The police have her for questioning, no one can get to her without exposure."
Azazel snarled, nearly throwing the expensive smokes across the room, but he thought better of it, held his face with his free hand as if he could shove common sense and something like humanity into it by sheer force of will alone. "And David?"
"No word for the past four hours. Kochbiel searched his home and found nothing."
No word since they lost track of Abadon. Azazel abandoned his smoke, and stalked off to the bedroom to peel off his wrinkled suit for something with less bloodstains. Though he hardly saw the point. With David gone, and most likely dead, the demon disguised as a man was certain that the olive trousers and navy dress shirt, along with his warmest charcoal wool coat, would suffer the same fate once the day was through. He knotted his scarf too tightly, and slammed the door on his way out, because teleporting into a police station was unwise at the very least.

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