Mark Phillips' Pages: Workbook: May 2022

Workbook: May, 2022

May 31, 2022: I suppose the lesson to learn would properly have been:
May 30, 2022: First of the toxic narcissists.
May 29, 2022: Pungent mockturtle oxtail mulligatawny.
May 28, 2022: Her glazing eyes, staring out of death, to shake and bend my soul.
May 27, 2022: At least I was able to tell her I love her.
May 26, 2022: He understands why she gave him Slan and Against the Fall of Night.
May 25, 2022: Orange school bus...
May 24, 2022: She lived in that yellow apartment...
May 23, 2022: ride down the gate
May 22, 2022: "Children are to be seen, not heard."
May 21, 2022: "Man purse," said the Mini-Mart attendant.
May 20, 2022: Merlot and guitars.
May 19, 2022: Unobtainably devoid.
May 18, 2022: Death by drowning at the House at Pooh Corner.
May 17, 2022: Invisible cats.
May 16, 2022: My mother's smile at those times.
May 15, 2022: After a fruitless argument...
May 14, 2022: Hello insect friends.
May 13, 2022: Prefer real pictures.
May 12, 2022: Inside an old book there's a "While you were out" message form...
May 11, 2022: Every book she reads involves a dialog with her dead mother.
May 10, 2022: lonely in the word
May 9, 2022: Loneliness, depth, sorrow, regret.
May 8, 2022: Diaries of court ladies:
May 7, 2022: Where she makes up with bluster what she lacks in expertise.
May 6, 2022: She isn't actually going to help.
May 5, 2022: How many years since she stayed up all night...
May 4, 2022: "I like the lion song," said my highschool friend.
May 3, 2022: Seeking intelligent, educated men for conservation with substance.
May 2, 2022: The great revolutionaries were always laughing.
May 1, 2022: He wasn't dangerously emaciated.