Is that an echo in my head? Is it my stomach making those noises, still rebelling against the violent vomiting of last week? Two black birds fly away, giving me time to formulate an answer. Do I still hear it? Not quite as loud, but I do hear a rumbling in my tummy, as Pooh … More A cooing growl shouted from the tree top
That woman there, in the hat—is she waving at you? At me? Adjusting her hat? Giving you the finger? Giving ME the finger? I wish you would be more clear about what she means, unless of course, you don’t know yourself. … More Monet, I hate you.