Fiction Alert!
one winter i was blind and it didn't matter because you played guitar and sang and had a bed with furry sheets and the kind of stomach you don't need eyes to appreciate.
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(oh gawd i have so many random little bits like this in my brain. so many imaginary boys swimming like so many lost sperm in my head. i'd be a writer except it would probably only be boy crazy teeny hoppers who would read my stuff. not a bad market i hear... i could just make them all vampires or wizards or the next best thing ... which i will keep to myself because it is too lucrative an idea to give away.
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