I can feel you coming, cold. And there is no room in this inn.
Bugger.
I can feel the scratchy feeling in my throat, and my right sinus is about to declare war. A cold is trying to descend upon me. I won't have it. There is no time or room for this in my reality. It is NOT to happen.
(I'm delusional, yes.)
I can feel the scratchy feeling in my throat, and my right sinus is about to declare war. A cold is trying to descend upon me. I won't have it. There is no time or room for this in my reality. It is NOT to happen.
(I'm delusional, yes.)