hanging by a thread
As many of you know from reading a previous post, my poinsettia has been on death row for some time now. I have been working really hard to get him a pardon, and he has enjoyed consistent nourishment and a sunnier place in the home. However, my efforts are fruitless in the face of uncontrollable internal forces. Such forces wish harm on my poinsettia, and push it around, knock it down, and rip limbs from it’s already frail body. I fear for what is left of my poor plant. The circumstances are dire.
For those of you who have forced me into a writer’s strike, do not think I have forgotten. Consider this a brief reprieve from my strike, and only on compassionate grounds for fear that my poinsettia will not be long in this world and deserves proper mourning and commemoration.
Beware the face of the enemy, it is often a beautiful thing.
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