“It’s Only Windy on Bin Days” could be the name of my first romance novel..
He chased his Shreddies box with the skill of a herding chicken farmer. As he made his way down Baker Street to New Lane, a young woman chased her own cereal box blowing in the opposite direction. Their focus locked on their respective boxes, they failed to notice each other until it was too late. A crushing cardboard sound, and they fell crashing to the floor. Their eyes met. “What a lovely box” he said.
PsychicParrot (Jeff) 😷 /
npub12q…cjzae
2024-04-03 13:01:34
Author Public Key
npub12qpzr3yjlrjyeqt0xhmyfwextd9t7kwmr3rgq4vpuhsfeguy6qms8cjzaePublished at
2024-04-03 13:01:34Event JSON
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