Feed it. Water it. Tolerate it. Everything else was tomorrow's problem.

'Cept as the kid let the glass fall through his fingers, gasping and choking on a sharp squeal, I wasn't so sure he was going to survive until tomorrow. It shattered with a force that seemed to shake the house, obliterating on impact, shards spraying.

"Spash," he said, wiping his hand across his chest where the milk had attacked him on its way down. "Star, spash."

Yup. Certainly hadn't been granted patience. With a snarl, my fist slammed down on the table. "Splash? Are actually fucking kidding me right now?"

The effect was instant; eyes doubling in size, he...