YOUR FABULOUS CONTAGION
I was sure of one thing - that wasn't my umbrella.
I never use them and I'd rather get wet. Quite wet.
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The bromide of the suburban matron never lasts past
the moment it's spoken : catcalls, chiggerbugs, and vows.
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Two new houses dot the landscape. This used to be a
German Club. Right here. Boozefests and music, always.
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Why do we make mistakes that only return to haunt us?
The land grabs back what we give away.
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