Holy Mother Of Lord Cocoa

I’ve Been Trying So Hard Not To Think His Name, Not To Even Breathe The Idea Of Him

Everything In Me Feels Fluttering And Free, Like I Could Take Off From The Ground At Any Second. Music, I Think, He Makes Me Feel Like Music.

This Is What We Are Made For: Promises, Pledges, And Sworn Oaths Of Obedience.

This Is The Language Of The World Before—a World Of Chaos And Confusion And Happiness And Despair—before The Blitz Turned Streets To Grids, Cities To Prisons, And Hearts To Dust.

Fred Is Officially The Mayor Of Portland Now.