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The Journal of A. Paige White a welcoming quiet
08/23/2007 03:20 a.m.
The sounds of threats to do bodily harm have ceased.
No threats of getting after her little brother with a dull rusty knife.
No mime of digging with her shovel.
For years that was a favored deed of conveyance:
I'm going to get the shovel. I'll bury him deep in the back yard and nobody will ever know.
Mom, where's the shovel?
Anybody seen my shovel?
Time to bury Jarrod.
He was in a mood to torment her tonight.
No kidding.
Will they ever grow up?
Wherever she went, he was hot on her heels. That little brother grin in his voice.
Trying. Trying. Trying. Trying her.
Time to hit the hay.
At least there's no bed bugs there.
I am currently Affectionate
I am listening to my yawns
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