It turned out there was a tray of sugar water on the back table. Thousands of fruit flies were dead in this small tray, their bodies engorged, swollen to a full inch or more, the springs in their bodies long black coils.
I killed them in swaths, throwing water down or taking a step.
It turned out there was a pool of water that was free of them--the toilet--and I began scheming to harness this power to fend off the brutes.
I awoke to a report on the roles of women in traditional tales and in the haze before setting feet on the floor, I was convinced I could write a non-sexist fairy tale.
Good blog! I like your posting style, so your wording. It's good that people are so different and everyone has his own story.
Good blog! I like your posting style, so your wording. It's good that people are so different and everyone has his own story.
Good blog! I like your posting style, so your wording. It's good that people are so different and everyone has his own story.
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