For him...Tell me this is true.For him... in Free Verse More Like This
I may not believe you now,
but that's not the important thing.
For the sake of what I have not known,
show me what your truth means.
Make it tangible.
Depth, height, length, weight
color sound scent.
Let me breathe in the essence of your truth
until I can never forget its taste.
don't ask me to
accept your truth on faith.
My faith is not blind;
too broken to allow for empty words.
I'm not beyond repair.
Just understand the value of patience,
invest your time and truth in me
and you will be rewarded -
my full, waking heart...
Nature TimeSuch broad serrated strips stretched from slender, woody stalks;Nature Time in Free Verse More Like This
smooth-edged ones too, caressing gentle orange cones.
I see a few, slender and long, their brothers shaped like little hands.
These cascade from a giant, speckled limb.
They make the lovers, sun and shade, entwine and dance with joy
as the gentle breeze ruffles their tips and beats that whishing sound.
Such wonders they encompass, homes to myriads of things -
from insects to microbes to tiny cells, who turn the sunlight green;
and never is one like another, though all are called one name in general.
From spring's first bursting rebirth to fall's explosive end
they perfume the air with their scent of life and liveliness,
making each day brighter with their comforting serenity.
Appeal to TraditionI refuse to bless you when you sneezeAppeal to Tradition in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
the practice is outdated, an old myth.
I have more faith in words heard on the breeze
than in the holy books you pelt me with.
It's not that I disparage your beliefs,
no, individuals must choose their own.
I'd rather like to turn a newer leaf
expose the bias of religious drones.
I will not argue; try to change your mind
that's not my purpose, I would never show
such disrespect. If you respond in kind,
we can agree to disagree and grow.
The mountain's stance does not refer to me;
in my small ways, I stand for what I see.
Blood-forsaken Son: History 1HistoryBlood-forsaken Son: History 1 in Fantasy More Like This
Many, many years ago, a battle was fought that began the endless sorrow of the people of the Southlands. From this battle was born two factions: the knowledge-seeking Sinaeya and the war-making Kaern. It all began when the Holy King Teragon lost his life to the everlasting war with the Galrosh, huge orc-like creatures that despised anyone living under the sun. He had been a great leader, and had led the Southlands through centuries of peace and prosperity. His death was a tragedy, and it inevitably caused a division among his council.
For thousands of years, the throne of Southlands had remained in the steadfast hands of the noble Sons of Tera. Their lineage descended from Tera the Mighty herself, and they had ruled as well and wisely as the great woman of ancient times. Howev
Evening's Reflections1.Evening's Reflections in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
stars in the evening
whisper songs into the deep
darkness of our past
when we heard laughter
it was trickles of golden
summers, wet with dew
and when I slumbered
dreams began with meadowlarks
songs begin and end
never truly finishing
their restless wanders
I dream in colors
never known to me before
darkness of the storm
as the wolf cries out
born with his awakening
I am each new day
Two tears for loveTwo tears for loveTwo tears for love in Free Verse More Like This
for the embers of tenderness tempered from the burning flames of passion and desire
for the need embedded deep within my soul
where my heart lies tethered to your love
A simple gesture bringing it to heel
You fan the embers into flames and cool the flames to coals again
all with the smallest movements
you amaze me
You make me stronger in my weakness
and you give me what I crave
both tenderness and torrential loving
the way it was always meant to be
shed to span the distance of a thousand thousand lifetimes
The time I live without you close to me
A tear for tenderness, and a tear for desire
for you my love
because in all things
I need you so
I lose two tears for love
I Believe in Roots"You've got to believe in somethin," she said,I Believe in Roots in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
as if there isn't any other way
to live a happy, proper life today.
I really wanted to go back to bed;
I got to listen to her rant instead.
"I don't always agree with what they say,"
and "those kind don't believe in the right way!"
I'm hoping she forgets I'm filled with dread.
A reed may bend to winds both strong and harsh
surrounded by a frozen, darkened pond,
and seem as beaten by the windy will
as does a debtor faced with a new bill.
Reeds are connected underneath the marsh
by roots that form an unbreakable bond.
Anthem of the CrewYo ho, me matey's o' the ship so free, yo ho me matey's yo ho! 'Anthem of the Crew in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Tis a wonnerful life, a pirate's life, if e'er the wind did blow!
So hoist the Jolly Roger mates, and drink a pint for show!
Strike fear into the hearts of all, yo ho me matey's, yo ho!
She Disaster Makessacred hearts holding swayShe Disaster Makes in Free Verse More Like This
humankind desperately hoping for salvation
narrating unholy instances of so-called glory
honor won by the bloody hands of manmade gods
souls disappearing in the wake of her greed
Fate decrying all the unknown battles
waging on as horror burns the skies
sun-warmed darkness leaking through callused fingertips
as quickly as the seasons fall
she was lost before it all began
she was nothing before the concept was concealed
she is the eternal suffering
born to raise that inner hell that plagues us all
paralysis of the mind and spirit
the death of all things
life's purging light
BBC Sherlock - CakeJohn stood in the kitchen doorway and stared.BBC Sherlock - Cake in General Fiction More Like This
Sherlock Holmes was baking. The tall, slim figure had his back to John, a bowl cradled in his arm with all the ease of a master patisserie chef.
"You're staring John." Sherlock said, not turning round.
"And you're baking."
"And we have both just established that we have a firm grasp of the obvious." Sherlock said, amused, as he carefully sifted flour into the bowl and proceeded to mix it thoroughly.
"Are Tristan, Isolde and Persephone coming round then?" John asked, remembering the only other time he had seen Sherlock baking, that time for his little nieces and nephews in an attempt to spite Mycroft by violating the sugar embargo he had placed upon his offspring.
"No." Sherlock said, spooning the mixture into two cake tins.
"Can I not do something simply because I enjoy it?"
"Yes but you're not just doing it for giggles, are you?"
Sherlock smiled at John's accurate deduction. "No. Not this time no. But the point still stands. I
BBC Sherlock - Christmas Special"Oh bloody hell . . ." John Watson groaned.BBC Sherlock - Christmas Special in Humor More Like This
"I am guessing that the letter which fell out of the envelope along with your Christmas card from, to judge by the traditional religious iconography on the front, one of your more elderly relatives is not a welcome one." A voice drawled from the sofa.
"Decidedly not." John mused, staring at the letter with no faint contempt.
"Is it from an elderly relative?" Sherlock enquired for the sake of his own curiosity, awkwardly wriggling his way onto his front and dislodging Dante in the process. The cat hissed angrily at his master before slinking off and concealing himself under their Christmas tree which had been smuggled into their flat by Mrs Hudson. Attempts to remove the tree had resulted in pointed hints about eviction so for the sake of their tenancy agreement they left it be. Although Sherlock was still rather annoyed at his plastic skeleton being removed to make room for it.
"My Great Aunt and Uncle. Edith and Ernest, both ag
SH - Lestrade's Revenge"Ok. I admit it. That was completely worth the permanent notation on my criminal record." John Watson grinned.SH - Lestrade's Revenge in Humor More Like This
Sherlock wriggled awkwardly in attempt to alleviate the pressure on his wrists which were cuffed behind his back, nevertheless he smiled. "Anderson's reaction was . . . an utter masterpiece."
"Love how Lestrade had to tie him to his chair until he calmed down." John rubbed his nose on a wall in an attempt to relieve an itch, his own hands cuffed behind his back restricting his movement. "I pity whoever has to clean up the mess to be fair."
"I know. Blood is difficult enough to clean up at the best of times. When you mix photocopier toner in too it becomes virtually impossible." Sherlock mused.
"It's not even like it's in an easy place to reach. They're going to have to get a stepladder to get it off the ceiling."
"How did it get on the ceiling again, I think I was looking the wrong way at that point?"
"A combination of a high pressure nosebleed and an electric fan I believe."
SH - Qui sanat sanatores?John Watson staggered off the bus and nearly fell flat on his face.SH - Qui sanat sanatores? in General Fiction More Like This
He was exhausted.
Today had been hellish and at one point he had actually snapped at several people in the waiting room. They had been highly affronted when he had pointed out that a slight sniffle does not constitute having the flu and no, he was NOT going to write them a doctor's note for them to take time off work.
He had actually got a round of applause from some of the doctors and some of the patients who were genuinely sick and resented these healthy interlopers in their territory at the end of his rant.
One foot in front of the other John, come on, you're nearly there.
But he couldn't get excited about getting back. Sherlock was still going to be very sick and John felt too tired to cope with yet another ill person today, especially when he was feeling pretty rough himself.
Quis custodiet ipsos custodies? . . . Who guards the Guards themselves? Sod that, who heals the doctors, I'd like to
SH - Kiss it BetterDamn.SH - Kiss it Better in General Fiction More Like This
Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.
Damn, shit, bloody blast and sodding ruddy well bugger it.
John stood there with the phone in his hand, Sarah's plea that he come in still ringing in his ears.
Ordinarily he'd be there like a shot, the surgery was clearly too understaffed to deal with this flu epidemic.
Problem was he had his own victim of the flu to take care of.
"Please John, all the patients are starting to panic, it's turning ugly. We need to see as many people as possible, as quickly as possible."
I promised him I wouldn't leave.
"I . . . um . . ."
"Please John, the junior doctors are starting to get angsty too, we need someone to pull them together."
John close his eyes.
Damn, shit and bloody, bollocking bugger it.
"Alright, I'll be there as soon as I can."
"You're an absolute life saver, John." Sarah said, relieved.
Sherlock was still too sick to be left alone.
John reached for his phone again.
To: Ophelia H;
I am so sorry to dump you on this but I
Conversations with DeathWaking up and finding Death himself sat nonchalantly on the end of your bed is certainly going to be high on your list of Top Ten Crazy Things to Happen at 1:34 in the Morning.Conversations with Death in Short Stories More Like This
Now, upon finding yourself in such an unorthodox situation you can react in one of three ways.
Blink, tell yourself that you are obviously dreaming, roll over and go back to sleep.
Freak out, scream and cry until you fall unconscious from the sheer overload of WTF-ness.
Or, you can do what I did.
I sat up and turned on my lamp to see if he was some sort of shadowy illusion that disappeared with the light.
And he hadn't moved.
We stared at each other for a few long moments.
At least, I assumed he stared back. It is difficult to tell in which direction an eyeless skull is looking.
Finally I opened my mouth with a view to saying something intelligent.
What came out however was rather less clever than I had hoped.
"Am I . . . tripping?"
NO. A voice as deep and as final as a crypt door closing.
The WaitingRoom is large butThe Waiting in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
paint is peeling,
from panelled walls
and alcoved ceilings.
An old woman is buried
in a damp chair.
A warm smell of piss,
She does not turn but
"Americo, do you remember
your blossoming power?
The whole world despised it
but I loved you dearly.
My wanton child-
Red in matricide,
white in supremacy
and blue here now,
in your rosewood seat"
Americo laughs briskly
at Britannia's slight.
But they are both disturbed
and chilled by the sight,
of Romulus' freshly starched sheets,
and all his leafy golden crowns,
in a tied black bag
beside the door.
OctoberSerenity, I fell to sleep,October in Free Verse More Like This
And hid behind a deeper dark
That fills the chambers of my chest
And slows my bloody racing heart.
Then foolishness, I dared to dream
Though not of clockwork silver screen
Nor movie stars or speeding cars
I dreamt I was below the stars,
And there you were and there was I
With grass below and light above
Our lamp the spreading summer sky.
So need I even speak of love?
Or shall I only sally on
With baubels here and trinkets there
The way your eyes closed in the night
The shapes my hands wove in your hair?
I woke to pearly winter light
And found no shred of comfort there.
Diamonds Are DullThose colourless prisms with empty placesDiamonds Are Dull in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Like molten crystal tears are slowing
In freezing facets and downcast faces.
I found no fierceness trapped in glass
So I chose my seconds up in flame
That rolled with the taste of ruby red;
Of crimson passion and pouring rain
Dousing mists over my head
And dragging me down to a fiery dream.
Car Crossed LoverIn lanes full choked with sun and leavesCar Crossed Lover in Free Verse More Like This
Avians sing as a badger grieves
For his car crossed lover
Laid low last night.
Still, no bright light
For a beast of the field
No flashing life
Or right hand of God
Just the main beams of honda
Then a pitiful sinking
Into the sod.
Hellsing: Laundry 5Alucard yawned as he walked down the stairs leading to the basement. It'd been an extremely long night; the usual shoot-everything-until-it-dies mission. And while it was extremely fun killing things, it got very boring very quickly. All the vampire looked forward to now was sipping on his blood pack and going to sleep.Hellsing: Laundry 5 in General Fiction More Like This
Little did he know that sleep would not come easily for him, oh no! Little did he know that deep within the bowels of the basement lurked an enemy more terrifying than any he had ever known! Little did he know of the horrors that awaited him! Little did he know the horror of cable television!
Our victim- I mean, Alucard, walked to his room, not even bothering to open the door, sighing with relief when he saw his blood chilling in a bucket. He strolled over to it, eagerly taking a sip, when he noticed something strange. His coffin was glowing a weird blue color. It glowing red was normal, but blue? Something was up with that.
Narrowing his crimson eyes, he walked up to i
Hellsing: Laundry 2It is said that you can't teach an old dog new tricks.Hellsing: Laundry 2 in General Fiction More Like This
And for Seras Victoria, this was all too true.
Why do these things happen to me? She asked herself, sighing miserably and laying her head on the kitchen counter. It hadn't even been a week since the washing machine incident, and Alucard was already up to his tricks again.
Apparently, getting hit repeatedly on the head with a silver ashtray by a furious Integra wasn't enough to teach him a lesson.
Apparently, being forced to go with Walter as he went washing machine shopping wasn't enough punishment.
Apparently, Alucard was either extremely curious or extremely stupid.
Seras narrowed her eyes slightly at the elder vampire in front of her, who was hunched over the microwave. He was looking at it very hard and would occasionally scratch his neck.
How do I get myself into these messes? She asked herself, now banging her head once against the counter. Alucard glared at her over his shoulder. She chose to ignore him.
Hellsing: Laundry 3Alucard sighed. He tapped his fingers on the desk, propping up his elbow and putting his chin on his hand. His crimson eyes narrowed slightly as he glared at the computer monitor.Hellsing: Laundry 3 in General Fiction More Like This
This was taking forever.
The vampire sighed again. "How does Walter endure this?" He muttered aloud. He had been sitting there for five minutes, waiting for the computer to turn on. And it was five minutes too long. The computer was taking forever. And all Alucard wanted to do was a search on guns.
Ever since the microwave and washing machine incident, Alucard wasn't allowed to leave the mansion grounds, much less the basement, except when Integra needed him. Seras had felt a little bad about this, so she managed to convince Walter to install a computer down there to keep him entertained. Both failed to tell him that it would take so long for it to actually boot up.
Another sigh. What was he supposed to do with a computer anyway? He didn't want to play those card games Seras had shown him on the normal comput
Hellsing: Laundry 1"Master?" Seras said in a tiny voice, looking at the looming figure in front of her. "Do you think this is such a good idea?"Hellsing: Laundry 1 in Fan Fiction More Like This
"And why wouldn't it be?" Alucard replied, taking off his trench coat and hat, throwing them into a nearby chair. His fledgling blinked and blushed, turning her back to him.
"What?" He asked, smirking. He was starting to take off his shirt, Seras very opposed to this idea. "Isn't this how you do it?"
"You have to leave some clothes on!" She snapped, trying to control her blush. She knew this wasn't a good idea, but Alucard had insisted that they had to do it.
Therefore, Seras had no choice.
They were going to do their laundry.
She didn't know. She was just sitting in her room when Alucard came in and said that he wanted to use "that weird machine that makes all the thumping noises." After five minutes, she finally figured out that he was talking about the washing machine. His excuse was that he was tired of Integra telling him he smelled like gunp
Kiss Each Other CleanFingers graze overKiss Each Other Clean in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
tender flesh; Sunday mornings
and castaway sheets.
Full CircleBroken Sunday afternoons mourn.Full Circle in Free Verse More Like This
Springtime mends and dusts us off.
The moon finds us all in tattered remains
and weeps openly for the loss.
Sunsets marvel at the love below,
charmed as they walked to the end of days.
They measured their lives with sticks and stones.
Too easy, they break like a habit.
Rain falls to pieces, trembling like unsteady hands.
She kisses all her children below and the seeds
grow up to thank her.
Sandman calls them all to bed;
heavy lids close as they lay to rest.
The nighttime shakes hands with
the morning sun, another day
The Business of RationaleDo you Remember?The Business of Rationale in Free Verse More Like This
I would always ask. Every time.
Everyday at the same hour.
Do you remember?
And you never did.
But you should.
Together we had cut into the winter skies.
Breathed in spring petals
Touched the summer sum
That never burned.
Floated with the autumn leaves.
Passed in and out of life.
In and out of each other.
Bits and pieces of myself fall out of my pockets
as easily as you pretend.
Together we had stroked the hands of time.
All your words were as real as
the way your hand fit mine.
The creases matched and I would smile.
Smile, because I thought we had stumbled
onto something great. Far above the reality we
confined ourselves to. I had always been the dreamer
And believed in the beautiful.
Believed in you.
I blink weary lids
Forcing out meaningless droplets of sentiment.
I hear the once peaceful night wind
split wide open. And rip apart all that is familiar.
And comforting. And good.
All I hear is the sound of falling.
Sensing that deafening impact
of soft flesh on hard ro
The Sanctity of LifeI heard that life is sacred, but I don’t know what that word means.The Sanctity of Life in Philosophical More Like This
A woman outside a clinic told me that a tiny mass of cells was a person, but I didn’t think it looked like one. I heard her say that the bundle of cells was just what a person looked like when it was very small. She said it had the same genetic makeup and all of the same DNA as a fully grown person and therefore had the same right to life. I watched her scratch her nose, dislodging a thousand skin cells containing her full set of DNA, which described her entire genetic makeup. The skin cells died.
The bundle of cells in a pregnant woman’s abdomen would grow into a fully developed human being, she said. That is, unless they didn’t, as was frequently the case. But, the bundle of cells had the potential to grow into a real person. The woman outside the clinic told me that life begins at conception.
If she had said before conception, I might have believed h
Jeff The Killer X Reader Part 3Jeff The Killer X Reader Part 3Jeff The Killer X Reader Part 3 in Romance More Like This
You awoke to the sound on your parents opening and closing the front door, you were still in your bed and Jeff was wearing a sleeping mask covering his eyes. You looked over at the door, it was wide open and your parents were coming up the stairs. You fumbled out of bed and fake fell onto the door making a loud slamming sound. Jeff shot up from the bed about to yell something before you hushed him.
"(Name)!?" your parents called from the hallway.
"Sorry Mom, you too Dad. I fell against the door running out of my room to see you" you said nervously, you hoped this little white lie of yours would work, it did partially.
"Alright dear just get ready" your mom chimed going back down stairs but your Father was not so easiley fooled.
"(Name) is there a boy in there? Because if there is I'll neuter that punk!" your Father said in a very serious and angered tone. Jeff gave you a look of horror, you wanted to laugh.
"No Dad I'm not 'that' kind of girl" you chuckl
Jeff The Killer X Reader Part 2Jeff the Killer X Reader Part 2Jeff The Killer X Reader Part 2 in Romance More Like This
You were wrong, so very very wrong. You awoke to a loud banging on the door, you heard your Father get up to investigate the knock. You squinted your eyes and let them adjust to the brightness of your room, it was about 11:30 in the morning. As you stretched their conversation continued on downstairs.
"What do you mean the Killer has an interest in my daughter" you father yelled getting angered but only for your saftey.
"Sir when we investigated the crime scene a heart was on the window that your daughter could have easiley seen." One said, he was tall and skinny and his partner was short and fat.
"We believe the killer harbors, how do I put this romantic intentions for your daughter." he had to choke out the word romantic since it was rather improper to say to a parent about their child. You peeked down the stairs, your father's face was red with anger. You stayed hidden to hear their conversation fully, 'I will not be left in the dark' you thought rebe
Jeff The Killer X Reader part 1Jeff the Killer X Reader Part 1Jeff The Killer X Reader part 1 in Romance More Like This
You casually walked home from school and back to your home, today was different since your father had given you mace. Why? A killer was on the loose, stabbing people in the heart, cutting smiles on their faces, and gutting them.
You weren't exactly so relaxed as you seemed inside you were a scared puppy. You maintained you light hearted steps to show you weren't scared or tensed, it would be to akward running home from school. Walking up the stairs of your porch the door shot open and your mother grabbed your shoulder and practically threw you inside.
"(Name) what were you thinking theres a killer out there! Get home faster until they find him!" she yelled as you regained your balance.
"Your mother is right (Name)" your father said from the kitchen, he walked out from the kitchen and gave you his best 'I'm your father do what I say' look.
"Alright fine, I'll get home sooner" you groaned hating the thought of running which is something you sucked at.
Jeff the Killer X Reader 7 Minutes in HeavenJeff The Killer X Reader 7 minutes in HeavenJeff the Killer X Reader 7 Minutes in Heaven in Romance More Like This
A sharp edge cut a few layers of your skin you flinched and grabbed the sides of the metal object, pulling the item out it shined dully. It was a slightly heavy knife with a slightly damaged hilt, you looked over it for a few seconds before asking who it belonged too.
"Who's is this?" you asked, a man walked towards you. He had long black hair, singed eyelids, pure white face and a smile sliced in his cheeks. Jeff The Killer.
"Thats mine" he took the knife from you putting the seasoned weapon into his hoodie pocket, Splendor gave you a slightly worried look but soon returned to his bubbley mood.
"Right this way you two" he led you towards what could only be a broom closet due to lack of space and door size.
You felt the killer's eyes bearing down on you as you entered the compressed space, you were pressed against each other pretty much. Jeff smiled as the light began to fade until a single beam lit the broomcloset.
"Remember only 7 minutes
is it blissful?uncertainty pulledis it blissful? in Free Verse More Like This
the pin from the grenade
like he pulled the pin
from her hair
and locks fell like silk
waterfalls upon her shoulders,
future happiness fell
like shrapnel, embedding into
the inevitability shook
like war as they shook together
like love shakes every fiber in
our being to convince us of
some things do last forever.
but the days die
as soldiers quiver in their wounds,
regrets that dig deeper the longer
they live entangled in one another
until they die too, eyes fixing into
each others starless nights.
and how gently they went,
he from her, her from him.
CharlieI had a stalker.Charlie in Short Stories More Like This
I didn't know his name but I'm sure he knew mine.
I called him Charlie.
He always had a camera hanging from his twig thick neck and he cradled it in his hands; a wispy finger stroking the shutter release. His dark brown hair was a curly mess and his shirts wrinkly and thin. He had the most perfect eyebrows, sweeping and gentle. He must have the most captivating eyes, I thought every time he'd glance my way. We'd never made eye contact. Charlie preferred it that way.
He came into the bookstore once a week, not to watch me leaf through the used books or reach high to shelve the approved ones, but to actually browse them. He read the unknowns; the virgins with their unbroken spines. I imagine he liked the smell of them aromas preserved for him alone. Charlie appreciated the books wearing dusty coats and factory perfume a decade old.
The rest of the time he spent on the outside looking in. My co-workers were tickled pink. "What a geek." "Poor guy doesn't realize you
The Tickle TurntableThe Tickle TurntableThe Tickle Turntable in Short Stories More Like This
This story is a work of fiction. The events portrayed may or may not have happened. There is no sexual or erotic content in this story whatsoever. Any similarity between the characters and any person, living or dead, or existing characters is coincidental and unintentional. This story is not intended to suggest that the author supports abuse of children in any way. Dorain © 2012.
The sounds of a vehicle skidding to a stop in the gravel parking lot of the town park alerted Donny to the fact that what he had been waiting for was finally there. The park had been a bustling center for families twenty years ago, but since the advent of high-speed internet, movies and video games on demand, it had fallen into disrepair and neglect. Families rarely visited here anymore, but it still had a grassy field where kids could still play, and the slide & merry-go-round still worked.
Tickle and a HalfTickle and a HalfTickle and a Half in Short Stories More Like This
This story is a work of fiction. It contains an account of minors being restrained and tickled. All names are fictional. This story contains no pornographic or erotic content. Any similarity between the characters and any person or existing character is coincidental and unintentional. Dorain©
Jonathan was so, screamingly bored! Idly, the nine-year-old wandered over to where his mom stood, chatting. The adults at this family reunion seemed to be having fun, but there were so few kids here his age. His older cousins were all out on the patio, talking to each other and laughing about teenage stuff. Young Jon tried to go hang out with them, but they just politely, but insistently suggested that he would get bored with them.
"Mom!" he asked, tapping her arm to get her attention. "When are we going?"
His mom looked down at him, her expression a bit cross at his interruption. "Not for a while yet,