It’s so wet here and even upon peeling off my socks I can barely make out where the water ends and the feet begin. And then my olfactories open as the dog greets me with lick-to-nose and it’s the same thing: where does the wet-dog smell stop and the dog herself start? I dare not eat under these conditions, which remind me of Maugham. And this story. And hot water bottles. What a perfect night for a hot water bottle.
Bonus: treats by email
Keep my lights on – buy an audiobook
Icelander, by Dustin Long.
(more coming very soon)
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- StarShipSofa: 30;] Masque of the Red Death Edgar Allen Poe http://podcastle.org/2010/10/2 9/podcastle-miniature-56-...
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