#scorch

The girl leaned forward and kissed Thomas on the cheek. “You’re sweet. I really hope we don’t end up killing you, at least. ↗

— James Dashner

#humor #scorch-trials #humor

We were lining up and counting off nice and easy till you came stumbling through like a doped-up bull,' Minho responded. ↗

— James Dashner

#minho #scorch-trials #humor

He whipped out his sheet, then pulled it over himself and wrapped it tightly around his face like an old woman in a shawl. 'How do I look?' 'Like the ugliest shanky girl I’ve ever seen,' Minho responded. 'You better thank the gods above you were born a dude.' 'Thanks. ↗

— James Dashner

#minho #old-ladies #scorch-trials #shanks #humor

...You'd think the little part about them supposedly killing us would be the attention getter. ↗

— James Dashner

#the-scorch-trials-humour #trials

Yeah, right," Minho said. "And Frypan's gonna start having little babies, Winston'll get rid of his monster acne, and Thomas here'll actually smile for once." Thomas turned to Minho and exaggerated a fake smile. "There, you happy?" "Dude," he responded. "You are one ugly shank. ↗

— James Dashner

#the-scorch-trials #you-are-one-ugly-shank #trials

I can still kick your pony-lovin' butt with twice this much pain." Thomas shrugged, "I do love ponies. Wish I could eat one right now. ↗

— James Dashner

#maze-runner #scorch-trials #humor

Rose took my nose, I suppose,” he repeated; the bubble of phlegm in his throat made a disgusting crackle. “And it really blows. ↗

— James Dashner

#humor #humour #rose-took-my-nose #the-scorch-trials #humor

Shuck it,” Minho responded. “I’m tougher than nails. I could still kick your pony-lovin’ butt with twice this pain.” Thomas shrugged. “I do love ponies. Wish I could eat one right now. ↗

— James Dashner

#minho #pony-lover #scorch-trials #humor

Rose took my nose, I suppose ↗

— James Dashner

#humour

Solar Eclipse Each morning I wake invisible. I make a needle from a porcupine quill, sew feet to legs, lift spine onto my thighs. I put on my rib and collarbone. I pin an ear to my head, hear the waxwing's yellow cry. I open my mouth for purple berries, stick on periwinkle eyes. I almost know what it is to be seen. My throat enlarges from anger. I make a hand to hold my pain. My heart a hole the size of the sun's eclipse. I push through the dark circle's tattered edge of light. All day I struggle with one hair after another until the moon moves from the face of the sun and there is a strange light as though from a kerosene lamp in a cabin. I pun on a dress, a shawl over my shoulders. My threads knotted and scissors gleaming. Now I know I am seen. I have a shadow. I extend my arms, dance and chant in the sun's new light. I put a hat and coat on my shadow, another larger dress. I put on more shawls and blouses and underskirts until even the shadow has substance ↗

— Diane Glancy

#eclipse #resilience #scorched-edges #shamanism #ymir