The jeweler’s house, at the bottom of the incline, boiled like a cauldron. Lonan plaited tough thread and rum-mixed resin through Shay’s sweaty hair, patterning crushed cockle shells in braids away from Shay’s hairline. His fingerwork was tight and precise.
A man at Camalo Fair swore to me that if I came with him on the Ferris wheel he’d cure cancer.
Well, spring sprang, and now it's time for summer to sum. In homage to all the tomfoolery your local hooligans will get up to now that school is out, here are seven questionable story starters to pass the season with.