I just don't find you pretty.” A hysterical laugh escaped my lips. This just could not be happening. This must be a dream. “You found me pretty ye...terday!” I shrieked. “When you fucked me in the shower.” The restaurant had gone silent. The Maitre D' was walking over. Mark shrugged. “Things change, Mary,” Mark said. “You just don't hold a candle to my sister.” His words cut so badly, I could feel the tears running down my face. Anger was roiling inside me. I grabbed my wine glass and splashed it. I suddenly had a very bad feeling about this. I had a theory, but I needed some proof.I asked for Harriet to find me a good Wizard map of Austin, showing all of the charted Ley lines, color depicted by type and strength. Theories of alien retroviruses excluded, it takes power and specific intent to create a zombie ... usually. There are exceptions but they're rare. They don't suddenly self-create themselves, unless they've been in a heck of a magical shit storm beforehand. The people were ill,. More

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