I once met a girl named McKinley
Who smoked like she was a chimney
Nine packs a day
Took her larynx away
Now she puffs through her trachea grimly
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To Speak of Secret Futures
Our coffees cool between us on the breakfast counter. You stare at the curls of steam so you don't have to look at me. That's always been your tell. Usually your gaze speaks volumes, so when you refuse to meet my eye, that means you have a secret you don't want to say.
By Addison Alder4 days ago in Humans
Comments (4)
Ooof. Ouch. Awesome story, PACKS a shock (pardon the pun).
Oohh dark and probably accurate. Well done.
That escalated quickly 😆
Oh I love a dark limerick. This is excellent.