The days grow shorter. The air grows nippier (or as in Los Angeles, slightly less blistering) and I have actually purchased candies from the grocer in anticipation of Halloween. Just a few more black cat days to go, so here's a nod to Dickens' Great Expectations, in which our dear Miss H, jilted at the altar, lives out her days dressed in her tattered wedding gown amid the ruins of her reception feast.
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The groom didn't show: Miss Havisham's cake. Yummy. |
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