My child.
Makes me mad as hell.
Then looks at me, says, “sorry” with a look in his eyes that tells me he really means it.
Hell no longer, I wonder what it was that I was so angry about.
Want to buy me a drink?
Imagine that we were chatting over a hot beverage and what you're reading was being spoken instead of written. You are not a reader. You are my friend. Now, will you be interested to buy me a drink?
$3.00
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