That skinny looker from Greenland? Kinda flirty? I’m old enough to be her ataata. She taught me that word over daiquiris.
Left everything for some internet poker whiz who dumped her after nine weeks. But she’s determined to stay.
Everything’s new here. Fruit. Vegetables. Sunlight year-round.
She grew up eatin’ polar bears with drunks. Even worse: her low-life biological ataata routinely touched her utsuut.
She taught me that word too—then passed out in my tent.
“We’ll share my disability, okay? I’ll be your sugar ataata. I got no manly urges anymore.”
Truth is, a roadside bomb took ’em in Iraq.
thanks for the new words and good read – easily transported me to a beach-side encampment where everyone’s escaping something
Thanks for the kind words, Lee.
Good story, John. Your last line nailed it. I look forward to your next one.
As always — thanks for the support, Bobby.
Two lost souls who found each other. Beautiful.
Thanks Kirsty. Keep on keepin’ on, eh?
Lovely, evocative setting, and the last line was a doozy. Well done.
Thank you Kirsty. Keep on keepin’ on, eh?