In London (Fiction 59: Four)
Every so often, I step off the curb looking right.
Every so often, I step off the curb looking right.
I discovered I had missed it completely. The realization stung.
With each loss I would like to consider the gulf narrowing...
And with any luck it may even smell good.
How would you rate my work ethic?
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Isaac Dances...
With each loss I would like to consider the gulf narrowing...
For some reason the odds of a malfunctioning piece of technology righting itself unassisted are significantly less reassuring than those that it will randomly fail to function properly - I'm convinced.