Our Man Inside  Ambiguous Narratives
Greetings from my shed...
My little girl threw up in class this morning. She smiled when she told me. At five years old that kind of thing is still cool. Disruption, excitement, the spectacle of a shocked teacher.
Norovirus sent many kids home. Just in time for the weekend.
My hands smell of antibacterial gel. As I type, some keys shine white, islands on an otherwise grubby keyboa…
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