Sarah felt a little guilty. This wasn't her bed after all. But to each his own. This isn't some pink kiddie playgroundworld where cotton candy feeds you until your next meal, and mommy and daddy are there to catch you when you scrape your knee. In this world, houses are foreclosed, children are taken away by Children's Services, and husbands beat you after a late night out with beer. If you're lucky, he passes out before you have to fight him and shout NO. In this world, anything is possible, things you couldn't fathom happening to you as a 7-year-old kid writing an essay about what you wanted to be when you grow up. But children grow up into Sarahs and the real world are stuff of nightmares.
So what if there was a club, a little blood. Sarah needed a bed to sleep in tonight.
I like playing with words.
Sometimes I explore them here, sometimes at yangjanice.com.
And when I'm feeling really playful, I owl around on monkeywhimsy.com.
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