The anonymous blond who belongs to the high heeled brown boots, wafts though the kitchen, and out of the door without a word. Thank God I have not got to cook lunch for a stranger then.
Lost in the colors of the graffiti cheering up the bridge. The pain in my back ebbs as I focus, and click.
The sign says "postponed come back next week end". The car makes up it's own mind and carries on to town, I bump into wonderful Nab, she gives me a hug. What a lovely surprise.
Clear Air Turbulence
Never "clear the air", instead investigate all the subtle nuances of the word fester.
(Nobody could do it better, I loved you anyway girl)
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