I knew he had potential when, instead of being creeped out, he was fascinated by the antique glass eye I carry around in my purse.
One sentence stories. All the potential of PostSecret, but less bathos.
Although drunken ideas rarely come to fruition, we found ourselves on Pearl Street the next morning serving syrupy handfuls of my famous pumpkin spice french toast to the homeless, wandering souls dotting the sidewalks.
