Your omen is an old friend.

Hidden in my breath I forgot to lock. Dammit it was true. In my mind it was still a Tetris game. I was gunning to destroy multiple rows at once. Every answer I spoke was released from my mouth with impeccable panache. Confident despite guilty, I was suave and debonair. Like James Bond in a grocery store hitting on big breasted women, despite on trial I was cool and collective, as if answering a salesman at my front door and only to tell him no with a ripe smile on my face. Nothing did I tell him — nothing juicy to him or real, but he irreverently bought every word. Reliant on fingertips but red handed and open palmed, I was easy pickings for anyone at all versed in any informal arithmetic whatsoever, for the ability to compute two plus two would have sealed my fate that evening. Fortunate for me however he thought not of a key.

Flagofthetalliban - Copy (2) copy


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