isobeleast
His fingers flew over the keys of the typewriter furtiously. He stopped only now and then to look at the clock. Only one hour remained until the deadline.
Eric furiously pulled at the sheets until they tumbled off the washing line. The little boy dragged them across the lawn and left them in the mud of the recently dug vegetable patch. That would teach them.
The weeks roll on and on, they always seem to be gone as soon as they come.