you should be in no one's way... in that part of the house
I saw my old math teacher on the freeway. First I recognized his unique nickname on the license plate, and as I peered through the dark into his car, I knew it was him, and I felt this sort of familiar comfortable feeling of being back in math class, and my hatred for him. I think we love what we hate sometimes. I think I have run-on sentences at night.
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1 comment:
Is there an antibiotic for that? (The evening run-ons, that is, not the hate.)
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