She Used To Be Mine

Slaw.

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Cold the Ground Is Still Warm To Touch

Siobhan predicted a rainstorm at 5 and at 5 came the cloudburst. Pete and I sat on the porch while garbage floated downstream – I mean, down the street.

Drusy and Sweetpea considered why we would want to be so close to all that wet, wet – possibly delicious – peril.