Haymitch was slowly working himself into a drunken stupor. Just when he’d believed that Snow could stoop no lower and value human life less, he’d gone ahead and announced the twist in the Third Quarter Quell. He stood a fifty/fifty chance of returning to the arena and Katniss was likely doomed to her death.
He’d made so many promises… He’d sworn to Katniss that he wouldn’t let Peeta die. Haymitch liked the baker’s kid. He was a genuinely good example of humanity and the promise he’d managed to extract from Haymitch a second time for Katniss’s safety weighed heavily on his mind.
He was most concerned about the promises he’d made to Plutarch about protecting the Mockingjay. Heavensbee was insistent that Katniss was the linchpin of the entire revolution… the District kid who flipped the bird to the big, bad Capitol.
All Haymitch had to do was deliver her in one piece.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. He wanted to throw something, but he’d already wasted a bottle of his strictly rationed and highly contraband white liquor. He wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
There was a knock at the door.
It was well and truly after nightfall. Thread’s curfew was still firmly in place, so a knock at the door so close to midnight could hardly be a neighbour popping by for a spot of tea.
The well-worn handle of his knife in his palm was a familiar companion and it filled him with a quiet confidence as he slunk towards the door, his bare feet almost silent against the hardwood floor.
“Effie?” he grunted when he swung the door open. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
She could only stare at him, blue eyes wide; the proverbial deer in the headlights. “I don’t know what came over me,” she gasped. “I should leave.”
The distinctive storytelling genius of Neil Gaiman has been acclaimed by writers as diverse as Norman Mailer and Stephen King. Now in this new collection of stories—several of which have never before appeared in print, and more than half that have never been collected—that will dazzle the senses and haunt the imagination. Miraculous inventions and unforgettable characters inhabit these pages: an elderly widow who finds the Holy Grail in a second-hand store…a frightened little boy who bargains for his life with a troll living under a bridge by the railroad tracks…a stray cat who battles nightly against a recurring evil that threatens his unsusupecting adoptive family. In these stories, Gaiman displays the power, wit, insight and outrageous originality that has made him one of the most unique literary artists of our day.
The Subterranean Edition of Smoke and Mirrors will feature an all original design by Dave McKean, be printed in two colors throughout, with original illustrations for each story, including 8-10 full color plates.
The lettered edition will be lavishly bound, housed in a specially constructed box, the most elaborate presentation we’ve yet attempted for a book. In addition, each copy will include an original sketch by Dave McKean.
Let me go, the blood drips from your camera Just like a knife held in your hand What'cha mad about? I don’t know and I don’t give a damn Break the rules because I can
Let everybody see Their future here in me Just watch the wheel go round I’ll cheer as you go down (Whoa) You’re only smoke and mirrors (Whoa) You’re only smoke and mirrors (Whoa) You’re only smoke and mirrors (Whoa) You’re only smoke and mirrors to me
I know less is more but with you The stupid never understand Empty words you said so much Without a plan
Let everybody see Their future here in me Just watch the wheel go round I’ll Cheer as you go down (Whoa) You’re only smoke and mirrors (Whoa) You’re only smoke and mirrors (Whoa) You’re only smoke and mirrors (Whoa) You’re only smoke and mirrors to me
Cant take it anymore I´ve heard it all before I think the whole world knows It’s time for you to go But you can’t read the signs Maybe you cant tell time I promise you cant stay I´ll make you go away
Let everybody see Their future here in me Just watch the wheel go round I’ll cheer as you go down (Whoa) You’re only smoke and mirrors. (Whoa) You’re only smoke and mirrors (Whoa) You’re only smoke and mirrors (Whoa) You’re only smoke and mirrors to me
This week’s podcast guest is folk-pop singer/songwriter
who’s big into superfoods. We also talk gargling with coconut oil, vegan chocolate, and sushi recommendations (he does eat fish). There’s also the wilderness survival section of the program where we talk about foraging for shitberries and salsa bird droppings.
Download the episode for free on iTunes or by putting our RSS FEEDinto a player of your choice. Or if you’re too lazy for all of that, you can stream the episode below…