I should like to be a horse,
So long as it’s a paint, of course.
Flying riderless across the plain,
Wind tickling my flowing mane.
Splashing through shallow river bends,
Thundering along with all my friends.
Yes, a horse is what I’d be,
If the choice were up to me.
Doug is dressed in his party best, In a feathered hat and a sequined vest. With an icy beer in each hand, He’d rock it out, with the band.
“Happy New Year!” yelled Bernie to the drunken debauchery that his buddy Vince’s party had become. Amy sang Auld Lang Syne in the same style Marilyn Monroe s...
Doug leans back in his Lazyboy and stretches his arms over his head with laced fingers.
Eddie’s fist connected with a satisfying crunch and Haley couldn’t keep from smiling. The zombie’s newly-detached lower jaw sailed through the air, flicking ...
