The Erstwhile Child called me for a natter last night. I told him about my furious rate of sock production.
"Wow" he said, "you are really stressed."
Busted. He was right, and I am.
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Edward Gorey and some additions
This is my place to practice writing, let off steam and let people I know into what is going on.
No one walked down Bleak Street at night—not where hobgoblins hobnobbed, skeletons skulked, vampires vamped, and the dumpster behind the Chinese buffet smelled like zombies.
dances with needles
Edward Gorey and some additions
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