Dear Herman:
Have you ever been out in winds so rough that you nearly get knocked off your feet? Winds were that bad today here. Half the city looked like a comedy routine as we walked to our destinations. Bonus, crunching on dirt and puddle spray a few times the wind gusts were so strong.
Where was I walking to in this hellish windstorm? To the psychic fair. Yes, the psychic fair that the crazy native dude talked about the other day. Why? Cause I was hoping to get a tarot reading, god only knows why given I've never had a reader tell me anything about me, they always click into my sister's life and give me a rundown about her stuff; and I was hoping to meet some cute guy. Laughable. Seriously, it was almost like the wind didn't want me to get there in one piece or on time. And when I did with two minutes to spare, the lady running the fair said they were running two hours late.
Dude, waste of a day.
And with that...I imagine you checking in, laughing your arse off at my misadventures. I imagine you're dressed in blue pajama bottoms, bare feet, and a very worn yellow t-shirt that has a tear at the shoulder. And I think you're sitting there with a cup of tea, and a larger then usual sketch book in front of you, drawing...dogs. I think you're drawing dogs and wolves and moose...big moose. Big brown-ish dark creepy looking moose, with stuff coming out of their mouths, and evil dead eyes. Moose...very scary when they smash into the car on the highway.
Smile... big moose.
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