I looked at the clock on my car radio. I slowly began to fade into consciousness. I pulled into my local hardware store this morning to grab a few last minute things needed for work. Free Willy and the Hillbillies.

Wordplay from active minds and humble mouths. Fathers is running farther, anticipating the storming. Of lost love or love lost. How many dictators and righteous men the same been gutted under the slate skies to even slates and battle plains? I just know the sun is hidden, this fact is proven.

The more you use, the more you have.

A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write, if he is to be at peace with himself. What a man can be, he must be. Posted by Sanaa Book Club in Competitions. His gun trained at the boy, he takes aim. The sagging body soars to earth. Camouflaged, he stands to pick it. From behind, a point-blank shot. He falls on him, dead too. She felt the car come to a stop.