The Last Roll of the Dice Not Taken
There is that hope with feathers but my hope looks a bit like a scraggly chicken, one eye pecked out and a mangy rash on its neck, desperately foraging for seed amongst the rubble.
There is that hope with feathers but my hope looks a bit like a scraggly chicken, one eye pecked out and a mangy rash on its neck, desperately foraging for seed amongst the rubble.
The second voice arrived on Thursday morning while Monte was attempting to make toast.