Funneling to a point like the mold of an upside down birthday hat: Armadillos, my neighbor said, scratching a waxy ear. Little armored ones,
Funneling to a point like the mold of an upside down birthday hat: Armadillos, my neighbor said, scratching a waxy ear. Little armored ones,
Goodness, you’ve gotten some sun scowls the doctor, hobbling into the fluorescent room on her walker. I work with horses, I explain as if