Kind People Have A Way

And Random Bits Of Happiness, Like Finnick And Annie's Newborn Boy.

There Was No Discussion Between Them; It Was As If The Bugs Had Worked Out This Whole Scenario Long Ago. Temp Put On A Burst Of Speed For The End Of The Bridge, And Tick Turned To Face Down The Army Of Rats Alone.

Turn And Turn And Turn Again You See The What, But Not The When Remedy And Wrong Entwine And So They Form A Single Vine

Your Favorite Colour . . . It's Green?" "that's Right." Then I Think Of Something To Add. "and Yours Is Orange." "orange?" He Seems Unconvinced. "not Bright Orange. But Soft. Like The Sunset," I Say. "at Least, That's What You Told Me Once." "oh." He Closes His Eyes Briefly, Maybe Trying To Conjure Up That Sunset, Then Nods His Head. "thank You." But More Words Tumble Out. "you're A Painter. You're A Baker. You Like To Sleep With The Windows Open. You Never Take Sugar In Your Tea. And You Always Double-knot Your Shoelaces.

Well, I Knew That Goat Would Be A Little Gold Mine," I Say. Yes, Of Course I Was Referring To That, Not The Lasting Joy You Gave Your Sister You Love So Much You Took Her Place In The Reaping," Says Peeta Drily.