This post is going to be totally diarrheic and blonde. I don’t have anything groundbreaking to write about, okay, at least I’m not in that frame of mind. So yes, this is going to be very random.
My village is not on the map. It’s small and unassuming. We don’t grow cash crops. We don’t have notable heroes. We don’t have a tarmacked road- all we have is a ragged dusty winding path that climbs hills and slithers down plains like a jaded vein.
I might not be a people’s person, but I talk to people. I have to. It’s my corn. It’s my bread. If I didn’t talk to people my little girl would starve and start eating her nails,
I intended to blog twice a week. But just when I was about to bang out something late last week I hit a man. Yes, I hit a man. Run him down. Mowed him over.