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Feb. 1st, 2016|03:38 pm |
this morning our car creaked through the woods with a noise like a bed spring under rhythmic weight. it slipped from damp muddy ridges into the dark puddles, from which tyre marks stretched the the ooze onto and over the rolling forest track
yesterday, after initial hesitance, almost everything that escaped the mouths of the charmingly honeymooning lesbian couple in the countryside bar became innuendo - she, for example, was a diesel, and needed warming up: there was soon more and it doubled and trebled, and verily roared - the situation threatening to overheat, they left for home |
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