Kilee
and with a raising fist he slammed down his glass on the table with all of his built up fiery and began to spit insults at the wall.
What the hell is a toadstool? Like toad poop? Or maybe a tiny wooden stool that toads sit on? I can picture a toad with a smoking pipe and red jacket sitting cross-legged on a wooden stool with a little detective hat. The thought makes me grin.
Speaking is something that never came easy for me. not because i didn't know how, but because i was too scared to vocalize the thoughts in my head. i feel as though the words i said would be harshly judged or misinterpreted. am i the only one with that problem?