170. Mr. A
Mr. A, rounded tummy overhanging sienna poly pants, coached thespians with spiteful zeal void of craftsmanship. He carped when I cropped my hair post-play – its length was the only reason he’d cast me. I never spoke on his stage again.
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Mr. A, rounded tummy overhanging sienna poly pants, coached thespians with spiteful zeal void of craftsmanship. He carped when I cropped my hair post-play – its length was the only reason he’d cast me. I never spoke on his stage again.
Comments
Wow. That's just wrong.
Posted by: indigo bunting | September 18, 2006 05:53 AM