Said to be the sundial of savages, the shadows where one can read the absence of the thing represented. Only during daylight of course.
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"What is that smell?"
A woman kept on talking, "He calls it tough love." "My God." "That's simply awful." "Did t...
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My mom Sherry was the type of person who could (and consistently willed herself to) find gold in a shitpile. Even decades before "re...
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It was a long way until then. "It's more like the end of that book," an eye glance in the direction of a knapsack's c...

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