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Ass-istant Sam, Rigmarole


Written By Septia.


A supple darkness, and the velvet air of boak wood and varnishing oils confined him. Come the morning hours Sam had gotten accustomed to the clothes drawer: the laundry was fresh, the dark let him drift off, an
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There’s always that prime vibe to a coffee shop. Not pure quiet, not crowded. This one had hissing from steamers and through clenched teeth, the hum of heaters and the whimpers of girls. Katie eagerly awaited her order, watching the uncomfortable looking white
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