Brynne Delerson

“Professors,” Mr. Flogg murmured in a tone recognizable to anyone who has had an essay returned to them covered in red ink.

People called him a genius, but he didn’t see it that way. He certainly didn’t feel superior to anyone. It was only that his brain seemed to operate on a different, far less comfortable frequency than others’.

But then, Devon approached risks the way other people approached a warm, cozy bed at night.

But their characters might have been two roads in a yellow wood: they could not have diverged more.

luteofulvous

She’d never been called a nickname before (except in the deep privacy of her own imagination, that is, where she kept a list of suggestions should anyone want one, although no one ever did).

He met her fierce gaze, and the air between them grew so charged, Nikola Tesla could have invented three things just by looking at it.

Her father once told her casually that she was built like a plum on toothpicks, and the phrase was at once so cruel and so poetic that it clicked into place around her like a harness.

Anchor problems are not only about our current, failed approach. They are really about the fear that, no matter what else we try, that won’t work either, and then we’ll have to admit that we’re permanently stuck—meaning we’re screwed—and we’d rather be stuck than screwed.