For I was the storyteller always weaving a new adventure for you.
NO! I am supposed to be angry with you. I can’t go thinking of all those lovely times when you were perfectly wonderful.
Hmmm… what do I do now? For like another twenty minutes?
It’s Thursday and with a crappy day at work…
I have been waiting with beads of sweat running down my temple.
He had left me drowning like a bowling ball. And my small cafe was all that was keeping me afloat.
“Toffee, toffee, toffee, toffee”. My sugar starved brain is screaming, “Toffee, toffee, toffee, toffee”.
Max is rather crabby today. He hates distractions and is not a fan of my abstract sentimentality either. As I laugh, he turns his attention back to our quarry…
As always I run huffing and panting to catch the bus.