The tarps thwap on the porch, the windchimes tinkle and birds sing.
Happiness reigns, when all hell isn't breaking loose. We either have storms which snap telephone poles, rip off the roof, snap trees and create waters which send our cars spinning head over heels down arroyos and which capture dumb teenaged boys ever year, those who decide to swim in previously dead riverbeds and who don't die, and which force firefighters to rescue their dumb youthfully exhuberant selves, OR windchimes tinkle and birdies sing and make love in the bushes. We are in the sweeter... Sign in to see full entry.