“Hey, Mrs. Smythe!! Jack wrote on the table!”
After giving directions to my reading group I walked over to the scene of the crime and there was no sign of the writing on the table. Confused, I looked at Francis.
“Yeah, he wrote there but it’s gone. He licked it off.”
The scariest part? I wasn’t surprised.
( I apologize for the comment moderation implementation, but some crazed spammer is stalking me. He knows I'm available and is hoping for a date. He's sweet talking me by calling me a whore and what not. Carry on.)
( I apologize for the comment moderation implementation, but some crazed spammer is stalking me. He knows I'm available and is hoping for a date. He's sweet talking me by calling me a whore and what not. Carry on.)
