Dear Wigleaf:
Someone is not taking good care of his or her dog. And the people don't shovel their paths very wide. I stubbed my toe on a loose brick in frozen slush. That hurt. No, I shouldn’t wear my sneakers so deep into winter. And yet I'm still on the tail of a sick animal, blood dark urine in the muddy snowbank. What you see around here is no contrast. Not like a block that way or that way. Here it's same same. I shouldn't talk. Face to face, I would look away too. Poor afflicted creature. Can just imagine the vanity collar, the studs biting its flesh.

Got new keys made.


Jennifer Pieroni

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