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Desiree cleared her throat.
Emboldened by the lack of obstructions,
her voice shouted for a toast.
"I raise my conflaguration to all! Long live life,...even the the sort that bites
and crawls and keeps me awake itching all night!"
"I think you meant to say 'flagon,' my dear", piped Cousin.
Desiree huffed. With both hands on her ample hips, she retorted:
"I hope you spontaneously compost."
Last edited by ring; 03-26-2010 at 03:53 PM..
Reason: writer's blossom
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