I managed to get to the library for a few hours. I mostly read an old YA novel called Children of the Sun by Barabra Wood. I can't relate as well, no more princes, but I enjoy her attention of the subject and how she writes. It's like visiting an old friend.
It made me laugh at the part where the main character tells the soldiers she is there to be with a ruling Lord to soothe his heart. I'm sure they laughed and made a prostitution joke, but the joke is opaque in the novel. I got one, too. I guess even they had problems with that happening to young virgins and maidens who lose their heads, an "either/or" action. Do you accept your little gift, Durov? Durov is always down, and he'll impregnate them. I'm a fan.
Back here... Damn extremists. Cock blockers.
Let it be purity--causes sickness, the measure of a man, the worth of a woman.
I played with a butterfly, a beautiful orange and black one or a strange leaf. Nature wears the best costumes. After a few seconds, he flew off, never will we meet again, but we had shared a moment.
No comments:
Post a Comment