"The Nights are Cool"

Your story is good, but, "You're never gonna believe this." All the good bands they talk about play behind, silenced by more tall tales, twisters, and nine pound hammer tattoos. So you go.
Where do your eyes go? What they flaunt when you're not impressed or back to the Virgina Woolf you saw sitting on her bed-side table that you never mentioned because they won't get off "It's Always Sunny"? You decide to look into the trees. Then you wonder if the end of that broken branch is a rubber band because, who would put one there?
My Antonia got soaked in an Indian monsoon and I sit in a Texas summer breeze centuries after Columbus landed on the East coast. I gave a French girl born in Korea my copy. She takes it everywhere. Doing such things have their risks, but not everyone's copy of My Antonia has been soaked by an Indian monsoon.