And feast on the dead, I thought with a shudder. As if he could read my thoughts, he pressed a hand to my shoulder. His fingers were long and white, splaying over my arm like a waxen spider. If the gesture was meant to comfort me, it failed.
Related Keywords: Thoughts Thought Long Comfort Dead Hand Read
Related Authors: Martin Luther King, Jr. Maya Angelou Buddha Nelson Mandela William Shakespeare Marilyn Monroe Mahatma Gandhi
