The memory of smoke

The memory of smoke

Monday, October 22, 2012

If wishes were horses, my father would have been trampled into dust

And it's still going on. Bugger, bugger, bugger. The Chattering Monkey is very ill, before I knew this I rather hoped she'd died.

I have a living experiment that proves that just wishing cannot actually kill anyone, no matter how hard one wishes.

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