But then I took another sip of my coffee, and the feeling passed. My confidence as a short story writer took a knock-out punch about six years ago, and I never recovered. Tonight, sitting on my bed after a day of holiday shopping and while watching Care Bears to the Rescue, a few characters tried…
I am sooooo glad I didn’t leave work early for this
After work yesterday, I didn’t want to go home.
I feel intellectually something, I just can’t put my finger on it.
I’ve had only one past life that I can remember. I was a man in my mid-forties at some point. Well-off financially living in either the late 1700s or early 1800s. I favored a hand-tailored brown suit and was irritated by modern technological advances.
