Holy O'Hare!
Day three. Already a psycho killer has gained entrance to the concourse.
"Excuse me, sir, this is a love story. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
He's probably trying to get me to wash the dishes.
"Excuse me, sir, this is a love story. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
He's probably trying to get me to wash the dishes.
A surprising number of odd jobs keep popping up. They seem important. The dog needs a haircut, the foamboard that blew off in the last storm should be replaced today, that Tai Chi DVD purchased last month is calling to be watched, the piano that hasn't been dusted for at least a year must be played, conspirators all.
Which way? Off into the brambles? Or straight ahead on the path of the park-like setting?
Which way? Off into the brambles? Or straight ahead on the path of the park-like setting?
No comments:
Post a Comment