Jun 28, 2004
I'll cough myself to death, and then you'll be sorry.
I'm home safe but feeling poorly. And the only optimistic part is that I know I get extra skinny when I'm sick. I'm preparing for the cold medicine tingles. My face is hot, cheeks pink. But I think I look more like a happy little girl than a fatigued grown-up. That's what a barrette will do for you.
I haven't much voice, but what I have I would use to say sweet things. And you would be sweetened by them. And then I would cough all over you.
The night has been called one.
posted by Mary Forrest at 5:21 AM | Back to Monoblog