Pardon the blood on this letter. It certainly isn’t moose blood, despite moose being what Margaret Atwood, Michael Ontaatje, Miriam Towes, and I are currently tracking. It’s human blood. My own, actually. I was tying rope to a tree to secure our dollar store tarp over the tents. When I went to sever the excess length of the rope, my hand
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“I see.” I said. Although by this point, I was not seeing very clearly. - This sentence just tickles me. That, and makes me want to try maple whiskey.
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(Oh, and when I say something's a bizarre concept, that's a good thing, just for the record. One of the awesome things about LJI, for me, is seeing how other people's brains take the same prompts in the same amount of time and do things I absolutely never would have imagined doing, and do them well. :D)
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