Confession. I've heard, is good for the soul, but to whom might one confess with confidence? And what, pray tell, is a soul?
Oh no, I'll not go traipsing off on that all-too-tantalizing tottersome tangent. Not today.
. . .
Last night another creature of the desert surreptitiously crept into the garage. When I was notified of that event I managed to snap a shot of the elusive Arizona Scorpion lurking motionless on the hard concrete floor. After I had its picture safely stored in the digital camera the little beastie suddenly scurried hastily away, apparently in search of some concealment.
Denizen Of The Desert Discovered
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And Its Image Duly Here Recorded
. . .
Too lazy to think of something else to write.
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