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relic by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child. The Amazon Basin, September 1987 At noon, the clowns clinging to the top of Cerro Gordo broke free and scattered far above. In the upper reaches of the forced canopy, Whittlesey could see golden tints of sunlight. Carlos, his camp assistant on, shouldered a wooden crate. Open it, please, said Whittlesey. The Call of Catholic You by H. P. Lovecraft The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. From the mouth of the alley and seemingly out of thin air came a hooded figure slowly advancing toward the opposite dead end, glancing around as if searching for something or someone. As he neared the termination point, where the alley gave way to a vertical, grime covered wall, he veered straight for the dumpster. The rain began to pick up again, and the distant rumble of thunder reverberated through the city as a precursor to the upcoming electrical storm. You should have kept your mouth shut. Garland Kiss the hooded stranger, the Lightning Thief by Rick Ryan. Look, I didn't want to be 1/2 blood. If you're listening because you think you might be one. My advice is don't listen. Believe whatever lie your mom and Dad told you about your birth and try to lead a normal life. Being 1/2 blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways. He paused for a moment and then said, I think that first degree manslaughter, an armed robbery are a good fit. Anybody else considering the surrounding circumstances as well as the end result, said Terence, I think that manslaughter and armed robbery are appropriate charges I would have to agree with Terry, said Rayford. The punishment must fit the crime. Sounds reasonable to me, Sara said. It would have to. Wouldn't it? Snapped Miss Stern Helm, Labour alone said Body. She hasn't done anything to you. Oh, really? Said Miss Stern Helm with a look of mock surprise. Yes, really, Miss Stern him confirmed Avery. You've been picking on her from the beginning, and it needs to stop post haste, chimed Raeford in My Cave by Tim Simons. In my cave, I'm safe and sound all by myself. No one around. It's a little dark, but I can still see I like to hide and make believe in my cave I can be a pirate I'll grab me pistol, aim and fire it Sleep all day Tweet, Be me Pleasure. Then I'll wake up in search for buried treasure