“I was,” he admitted. “I would have whined until you said yes, too. I used to be very persuasive. Of course, I was cuter back then.” He gave her a smile. He knew he wouldn’t win any contests. He was bony, he’d lost most of his muscles. He was pale and sickly looking.
He didn’t want to think about that, though.
“Rain clouds would be less fun.”
Chopsticks
A guild of art, writing, general discussion---let's go with everything.
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