A few months ago, our apartment developed a slight haunting problem.
The title says it all.
I’ve been away for a few days at a top-secret location.
The coffee is kept in the pickle jar; that’s all you must recall.
Lately, the apartment has reverberated to the sound of growling.
Books shape my world. No, really – literally.
My roommates have developed a catch phrase – or perhaps the beginnings of a new vernacular; it is hard to tell.
What do you see in a can of tomato paste?
I spent yesterday destroying evidence – no, not THAT kind of evidence.
Healthy eating never seemed so…deep.