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
And Its Image Duly Here Recorded
. . .
Too lazy to think of something else to write.
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