eleventh cycling trip

When Zoli appeared today, my husband was sitting opposite of me. We were burning cedar, his eyes glowed, and I was afraid that he’ll take out the whip again. By the way, I haven’t even told you yet how I call you. Clara. My name is Clara. And it does make a difference what you lay on: a cheep stick or a smart chick, keep that in mind. And I adore you, have I already told you that today? Have I? You know: my memory, that is you.