I am tired.
I am sore.
I am winded.
I’m spread out on the floor.
I am wounded.
I’m sent out the door.
I am whistling.
I’m going to the store.
To pick up some bread and milk and eggs.
It’s time for some French Toast.
Brian Theoret | Notes in the Sandbox - a collection of writing, reflection, inspiration...
Brian Theoret | Notes in the Sandbox
a collection of writing, reflection, inspiration...