I should be writing about the dire state of the country since it appears our old America is lost, even as a cohesive resistance begins to coalesce and get its act together. Or maybe I should go touch grass. (Or snow, depending.) A soul just needs to depart Dodge and try to find real, touchable things to look at, ponder or admire before returning to the exhausting front-line fray.
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FIRST/PERSON: Prostitute Pasta & Way-Out Family Restaurants in West Virginia
'I am dreaming of a plate full of fluffy, cheesy scrambled eggs, streaked with a couple of red skid marks of Tabasco and a side plate of triangles of buttered toast. Preferably, wheat. But I will take white, if it is all Minney has got ...'