Fiorella is still feeling blue. She's tired. the house is a mess, her novel isn't moving as fast as she'd like it too, the pharmacy isn't sending her automatic refills like it's supposed to, she hasn't even started on the taxes yet, she's worried about an undocumented friend, and she shudders at the thought that the child composed of one fourth of her genes has been born into an alternate universe ruled by an ignorant, vicious narcissist.
Her only ray of light is the new rock area she found in the dry creek.. How's that for desperation?
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