It's a reflex. Hear a bell, get food. See an undead, throw a knife. Same thing, really.

I gave him my best cryptic smile. He did not fall down to his feet, kiss my shoes, and promise me the world. I must be getting rusty.

I like home. It’s warm and there are books.

If a book isn’t at least somewhat polarizing, it didn’t say anything of value.[Blog entry - November 1, 2014]