Emily Drazen

“could tell. The disruption to the natural order of the universe. After another twenty seconds of awkward-as-walking-in-on-your-dad-shaving-naked-in-the-bathroom quiet, Rose set her crackers down, leaned back in her chair, and let out a sigh. “Okay,” she said. “I’m guessing you’re all new to this ‘girl at the table’ thing. How about this: I promise that I won’t bite or give you cooties or whatever else it is that you all are flipping out over. I won’t talk about my hair or blather on and on about celebrity heartthrobs or all the girls I hate, because, frankly, I’ve only been here for three hours, which isn’t quite enough time to hate anybody yet. I won’t discuss brands of moisturizers or lip gloss or use the word ‘crush’ in any kind of nondestructive capacity. And in return, you can stop looking at me like I’m some deranged lunatic. How does that sound?”
― John David Anderson, Posted

“Subglottic stenosis.
That’s what Levi has.
I know you know what that means,
it is like taping your nostrils shut
and trying to breathe through a tiny coffee straw
glued to your lips.”
― K.A. Holt, House Arrest

“It looks like a giant psychedelic wool amoeba.”
― Gordon Korman, The Unteachables

“To prove his point, Mr. Sword launched into a lecture on Elizabethan theater, which was actually pretty boring until he described how actors would fill animal bladders with sheep’s blood and keep them beneath their stage clothes so that they would explode in a gruesome display during fight scenes. Sometimes, he said, if you were one of the lucky ones sitting up front you’d get some of the blood on your clothes too. He called it the sixteenth-century splash zone.”
― John David Anderson, Posted