She wants one of those
(‘coz her friends all got one.)
Taking her pick
(she thinks she’s choosing a hot one.)
She wants one of those
(‘coz her friends all got one.)
Taking her pick
(she thinks she’s choosing a hot one.)
It was always “tomorrow”. In fact, tomorrow would mark 99 yesterdays; each one a little fonder yet a little sadder than the last.
“What is it?” “What do you mean, ‘what is it?’ Don’t you like it?” “It’s… well, I mean it’s, erm…… Read more “Gah!”
Tis Friday once again, so time for Friday Fictioneers – hosted by the ever-present Rochelle. This week, I have been… Read more Comfortable lives
The gate squeaked, the gravel shuffled and the letterbox clattered as February 14th’s mail cascaded to the ground. Mark grabbed… Read more Forty Two