books read in 2024: frankenstein; or, the modern prometheus, mary wollstonecraft shelley
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CHAPTER FIVE → THE SONG OF ACHILLES
His spear, as he began the first pass, moved faster than my eye could follow. It whirled, flashing forward, reversed, then flashed behind. The shaft seemed to flow in his hands, the dark gray point flickered like a snake’s tongue. His feet beat the ground like a dancer, never still.
I could not move, watching. I almost did not breathe. His face was calm and blank, not tensed with effort. His movements were so precise I could almost see the men he fought, ten, twenty of them, advancing on all sides. He leapt, scything his spear, even as his other hand snatched the sword from its sheath. He swung out with them both, moving like liquid, like a fish through the waves.
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‘‘𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭. 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳, 𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦, 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘶𝘴𝘵’’ — 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑖𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑜-𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑐𝑖𝑎, 𝑚𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑔𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑐
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she bent most of the rules. she broke the rest.
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY PERCY JACKSON
Am I a troubled kid?
Yeah. You could say that.
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