Eons have passed and you don't look a day.
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The Bumptious Bump of Gloucester Paramilitary Politics Reached the Public News Media
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She said she was feeding animals. Later she said they all had hands.
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Never forget: the hate us for our freedom.
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Princesses always help their moms & the castle is working.
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Today I will set about poking out the eyes of every rock dove I've ever written. But not until the children are asleep.
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A funnel spider emerging from his dark cylindrical web amidst a stack of red bricks is something to see. For an instant you are no bigger than the bug he wants to snare. An instant later you've forgotten all about him & so head unknowlingly into the darkness of the alluring narrow passageway.
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My dreams? Rotten beams holding up the first floor. Ceilings buckling, heavy with water. Rat's nest electrical wiring sending off sparks. And then I'm cast off. I'd be happier if the lonesome whistle would blow.