Right In the Middle of her Forehead

By: L.

Apr 08 2017

Category: self

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There’s a reservoir of words, I know, just spooling around inside me and clamoring to be let free, to scamper over hill and dale and caper in the warm, spring air.

But I need to finish setting up my food order for tomorrow – which will, I think, let me do low-carb in a major way – and then I want to fix this game, turn off the dryer, and then I want to play the fixed game until I pass out.

So.  That is that.

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