This was moments before I noticed she had to poop, so I diverted her back to the street where I happened upon a plastic bag tumbling in the wind. We immediately returned to the neighborhood, and she went on the first yard. Apparently she stole some moon cakes off the table this morning, and it turned her droppings into a わさび-like paste. And the bag had holes in it where my fingers were.
윤
And how does a man of letters as myself—or my school records make me out to be—begin a new journal?
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