This was originally on Blogmark but I have lost the name of the author - if it's you let me know.
I could not resist copying this from Literotica. Written by sheepyboy
The front door closed and the young man who lived in the third floor city flat went out to work on another busy Monday morning.
Not a red rose or a satin heart.
where it should be
next to the bed
the computers of your co-workers
your laptop bag
the box you carry files around in
boot of your car
give up for a while
handbag, shake it upside down, and check the lining
briefcase, turn upside down
boot of car
under the car seats, and down the sides
Sometimes I wonder whether the secret to happiness is to keep moving, to keep changing. I was so happy when I first moved here, I remember cold evenings crocheting a blanket in soft wool, in front of a roaring tv screen. And warm days, when I saw my first big fat bumble bee, and Miranda swam in the biggest enamel bowl that I could find in the rented house.
Site vanished for a holiday?
St. Swithin's Day
So there was I cooking dinner at just before 6pm this evening when I get a phone call from Mrs Wiz saying
Therefore I am an Idiot!
At the risk of seeming to be entirely bored by the ANC's bullying and racist shrieks from everyone, has nobody else noticed the beginning of the Zombie Apocalypse?
I wrote this really slowly because I realise you may battle to read proper sentences.
WTF - where IS everyone? Gone to pastures, everyone? I'm lonely and bored right now and am in desperate need of some entertainment so...who has something to offer?
Just logged on to see if I still remember my password, and lo and behold, I did. This place is like a morgue. Sadder: not even any dead bodies ...
I have a little SatNav,
it sits there in my car,