a yolkless egg

why is every trans woman in media a twinkhon autist

Elspie, I have a thought! The baby shall be christened Olive! It's a strange, heathen name, Mrs. Rothesay. Not at all. Listen how I chanced to think of it. This very morning, just before you came to waken me, I had such a queer, delicious dream. [ - - - ] Then I looked up, after awhile, and saw standing at the foot of the bed a little angel—a child-angel—with a green olive-branch in its hand. [ - - - ]

Geelong could not get their running game going and lapsed into clanger after clanger.