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Usually, Lance's house is just a magical land where nothing's open on Sundays, where you have to drive a half hour to get a cup of... well... anything, and my toothbrush materializes in strange bathroom cupboards and drawers. This time, it was like entering another dimension, stepping into a black hole. Where you get up before nine, because sleeping seems extraneous. Where running errands in a...

http://miss-shortskirt.livejournal.com/293695.html
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Published: 1 year, 7 months ago (Wed, 21 Nov 2007 14:29:57 PST); 1757 bytes
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