Copious, Superfluous, Latrine.
Music blared from unseen loudspeakers as Truva Allen walked past the Ferris wheel. Row after row of lights lit the Midway. The lights were strung high on poles and attracted all manner of insects. They beat themselves silly against the hot bulbs then fell to the ground to be crushed by girlfriends who were “like, totally” dragging their high school boyfriends to test their strength and win them a teddy bear.
Truva was not one of the airheads. She was supposed to meet Matt here at eight but had come at six to look at some of the exhibits. Read the rest of this entry