“Moving On” by Timber Masterson
My Play Now, Pay Later Rusty Linings Playbook, too scuffed up and soiled to read, hopeless hodgepodge hieroglyphics really. I’ve got to find unity in community amongst my fellow city dwellers . . .
My Play Now, Pay Later Rusty Linings Playbook, too scuffed up and soiled to read, hopeless hodgepodge hieroglyphics really. I’ve got to find unity in community amongst my fellow city dwellers . . .
Gustav split her skull instead of the log . . .
Late one afternoon, while sweeping up, my uncle asked if he ever told me about how he almost make a jail, and immediately I thought: whoremongering . . .
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“More powerful than a locomotive!” screamed the headline in Maine’s Portland Press Herald. Ted Schultz feasted his eyes on the front page, and then turned his attention to the meat eaters’ breakfast special in front of him. “It’s got bacon, ham, sausage, and corned beef hash over three eggs,” pined the diner’s waitress minutes prior. “Breakfast special number two, a meal fit for a hero. And it’s on the house! . . .”
I don’t remember how I ended up doing what I was doing. Every fiber of my being shook when the alarm went off as the clock struck seven. I threw a glance at the clock and then looked at the view outside the big glass wall in the lounge, reminiscing about the time I spent planning this vacation out and how excited I was. I thought things would work out between me and Richard if we spent some time together. In a couple of seconds, my mind was drawn back to what I had to do . . .
We had recently moved and were delighted to find a babysitter across the street and a few doors down. Allison was about fourteen and lived with her dad, who had told us that his wife had recently passed away . . .
Lydia scans the online travel magazine and sips her tea distractedly. Work is boring, and the weather outside is dreadful. She needs a break. She’s browsing for an adventure to lift her spirits when a headline jumps out: Come experience the real Caribbean, it beckons . . .