Tuesday, March 5, 2019

Wrapped Around My Finger






I've read about the smell of pennies but I don't really know what pennies smell like. It occurs to me slowly that I have spent way too much time worrying about this kind of thing. Worrying about anything, now that I think about it. Maybe I've run out of things to worry about.

All I really want is to lie on a fancy daybed, sip green Kool Aid, and listen to Little Richard. Maybe Duke Ellington. Maybe mango shakes. White Russians.

Who am I kidding? I'll be fretting about something before the sun goes down. That's what I do. I worry.






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