I'm leaving the old intro here, but adding this- it appears the doves have taken over my blog for their fiction. Just as well, I was doing a piss poor job of updating. They're doing much better.
This blog is infrequently updated, full of incorrect spellings, misused words, and general bad grammar. It started when I was trying to use google+ (which I've since given up on) and discovered there was no character limit for posts. If you've known me a long time, a lot of these stories will be old hat. If you plan to know me for a long time, you'll no doubt hear many of them in person. But, folks seemed to enjoy them, so here they are.
This blog is infrequently updated, full of incorrect spellings, misused words, and general bad grammar. It started when I was trying to use google+ (which I've since given up on) and discovered there was no character limit for posts. If you've known me a long time, a lot of these stories will be old hat. If you plan to know me for a long time, you'll no doubt hear many of them in person. But, folks seemed to enjoy them, so here they are.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
the hundred and fourteenth story
Once upon a time there was a book who was desperatly afraid to give away her secrets. She was sure that, once someone had read her, they would judge her unworthy of the place the occupied on the shelf and would donate her to goodwill. Finally, after years of not being read, the folks at the library culled her for the yearly fundraising sale, where some kid picked her up on a whim. She ended up being his favorite book.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment