nabbychabby
The greasy fried butter was piled up on my plate. I stared in awe at the cholesterol filled fatness. Suddenly, my hands grasped the pile of grease and shoved the contents into my mouth. My heart stopped, literally.
I want a word other than this one. I want to write about something other than a disease. Why must I write about asthma? Why must I suffer through another time limit of a writing portion that I know will not be perfect, I don't understand. Maybe my knowledge of writing will grow.