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Quote by T.J. Klune

“I can't wait to see him again, to hold my son's face in my hands and tell him how proud I am of him. We think we have time for such things, but there's never enough for all we should have said.”

Quote by T.J. Klune

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Under the Whispering Door

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T.J. Klune

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“We're young. We’re supposed to drink too much. We're supposed to have bad attitudes and shag each other's brains out. We were designed to party. We owe it to ourselves to party hard. We owe it to each other. This is it. This is our time. So a few of us will overdose, or go mental. Charles Darwin said you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs. That's what it's about - breakin' eggs - by eggs, I mean, getting twatted on a cocktail of class. As. If you could see yourselves... We had it all. We have fucked up bigger and better than any generation that came before us. We were so beautiful... We're screw-ups. I plan on staying a screw-up until my late twenties, or maybe even my early thirties. And I will shag my own mum before I let anyone else take that away from me!”

“He unbuttoned her jeans, then pulled them down her tan, sculpted legs. Next was the lacy pink thong. He kissed her belly, teasing her by moving lower before pulling back. He stood up and took off his own clothes. Brantley scooped her up and carried her to the mattress, laying her down tenderly. Katelyn was burning with anticipation, yet every moment was bliss. Brantley lowered himself onto the bed on top of her and began kissing her face. He moved and kissed her ear, then her neck, making a trail and moving lower, between her breasts, down her belly, then the tops of her thighs. Katelyn moaned and thrust her hips up toward his mouth. He then kissed her swollen clitoris, making her cry out. He gently sucked on it, reveling in her sounds of pleasure.”

“We've had some happy times here," says Dad, and a shadow passes over his face as he reaches for his glass. Now that I'm properly close to him, I can see that he looks more lined than the last time I saw him. Older. More worried. Not at all like someone who's "never been happier." He's such a performer, Dad. He can fool his guests and even his own family. But life's difficult, I realize. More difficult than he's been letting on. And I feel a wash of shame. Have I ever asked Dad how he's doing? Have I ever looked at him as a person? Or only as my dad, who was supposed to be superhuman and not get divorced and not sell the house and basically never falter in any way, shape, or form?”