When the old year goes and the new year shows, on the stroke of midnight you’ll be free, but until then you belong to me. You read the soiled scrap of paper again. Your heart beats wildly. You’ve been on the run evading capture for six months, desperate to make it to the new year […]
That’s it. No further comment is necessary. In short, Conway Tearle.
Larks perch on my pillowcase. Eels occupy my shoes. I’ve nothing further to report. There is no other news.
Stonehenge, wherefore wilt thou dance dwelling in England, not in France? On solstice day to don your stockings would gain you naught but random mockings. Therefore, Stonehenge, bide your time. To bathe in thought is not a crime.
The board certified gnat conferred with the studious rat. First they hemmed. Then they hawed. Oh, for hours they jawed ignored by the mercantile cat.
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Doc's Lunacy
5 of 5 stars to The Great Train Robbery by Michael Crichton goodreads.com/review/show/55…
