Dear oscillating fan: The anticipation of your cooling swivel undoes me. Don’t we all wish to be motorized inside sometimes? My rotor just waiting
I thought of our dishwasher, born 26 years before we moved in. Just last week, it coughed up its last spume of water. It
I walk on moving floors with balance. I handstand in barrels. No puff of air lifts my skirt. I hit dunk tank bulls-eyes &