The editing is going slow. Sorta like this elderly lady who lived in my small town. We called her Pood. She drove an old Buick slowly, down the center of the street, with the right blinker on. People hit the ditches when they saw her coming. (I grew up in a very small town) Sometime after I graduated from high school, she either died or "they" took away her car keys. (rumor was she never had a license)
Now, I'm wanting to play with my "boy allergic to girls meets demon" story.
I'm just so gosh darn happy I have the urge to read and write again.
P.S. I ducked into Panera to wait out the rain and now it's storming again. I was spellbound by the internet to leave during the pause.
Now, I'm wanting to play with my "boy allergic to girls meets demon" story.
I'm just so gosh darn happy I have the urge to read and write again.
P.S. I ducked into Panera to wait out the rain and now it's storming again. I was spellbound by the internet to leave during the pause.
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