Just a new ID.
Strip Politics Milk Crates Milk crates stacked one on top of the other in the back of the van, covered in dust. Enough to obscure the license plate, dirty the windows, cake the tires. The faux Navajo upholstery, thinning and bare, stretches too far over the two front bucket seats.Strip Politics
Milk crates filled to the brim with priceless black rectangles labeled neatly with a mystery occupy the space where the backseats should have been. A binder locked into a secret cupboard in the driver's seat holds the answers. A rap through the door three times and the brim of a red baseball cap prompts
MaroonMaroon He had finally gone to bed. Now she could have some space, some time to finally get those thoughts out of her mind and onto paper. He told her it was immature and childish to still keep a diary at her age; but she couldn’t see the problem with it. What’s so immature about taking your time, writing out the day’s thoughts and just setting those few pages away to have for yourself? She had to hide her box of old notebooks too, for fear of what he would do to them if they were found. He thought her daily journals were just “womanly narcissism”. She always had to tear them from his hands when he would find and threaten to read tMaroon
Bald money!
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Ryan's afraid of butter. He's afraid of margarine, too. Why? Because- He can't believe it's not butter!
Vive le conch!!
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WeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeBLEEP!
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