I picked up the nearest weapon I could lay my hands on: a stapler. I lifted it, going for “menacing.” I admit it lacked a certain elegance, but hey. It was worth a shot. David placed his hand on my arm and pushed it back down.“What?”“Just . . . That’s embarrassing for all of us,” he replied.
"I picked up the nearest weapon I could lay my hands on: a stapler. I lifted it, going for “menacing.” I admit it lacked a certain elegance, but hey. It was worth a shot. David placed his hand on my arm and pushed it back down.“What?”“Just . . . That’s embarrassing for all of us,” he replied."
Rachel Hawkins
QUOTURA.COM
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