“I got a gig Saturday, slaying a dragon. Want to come?”
“Can’t. I have a damsel to save.”
“Sorry. I got the Dark Lord.”
“I got a gig Saturday, slaying a dragon. Want to come?”
“Can’t. I have a damsel to save.”
“Sorry. I got the Dark Lord.”
Old bones. Young heart. Uniquely arranged words. https://markstarlinwrites.substack.com