« and the things one wants to do | Main | Aptly named »

January 09, 2008

Comments

I feel such a tiny, pathetic surge of victory when I manage to puzzle through one of your posts.


And I benefit from her elucidation and so feel, if not victory, then commity and celebration, like the weak and helpless greeting the valiant upon their homecoming from the intellectual battleground.

I stride down the lane, carrying my shield, as Belle the Spartan Maid races to meet me, her bare thighs flashing in the sun.

6.luxuriant, as vegetation

The comments to this entry are closed.