User Assumes All Risk
There is a puddle under the ice machine and a bedtime story writing itself. I am on the top bunk with a hot, parking lot architect discussing the implications of random red paint. He is a specialist at catching lizards out of the corner of a story. Can we dislodge some logic around here, please? Unfortunately for him, I never learned how to ache properly. My heart is throat-high and spinning freely. I am too tired to right all of the slights. Lizards drown easily in shallow, sugar water. And I cannot help you laminate your escape plan. Be careful. Some flowers grow extra chances; some bend from all the bees. My heart was throat-high; not now. The red on the curb didn't work.