...my husband, Mitchell, now strides forth like a god might across a field. A field with a little tiny girl in it, that is. He's wearing his work clothes - a white, pressed shirt, a red tie, a black belt and brown slacks. As he takes another thunderous step I'm forced to look at his large foot falling back to the carpet, crushing an area several times bigger than myself under his dark brown dress-sock-clad sole.
Copyright 2000 - 2024 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.12 seconds at 2:13pm on Nov 28, 2024 via server WEBX2.