Jun 8, 2015
quiethazel-eyes
If one thing around this house wasn’t lost, it was a damn nother. Cid’s hand came out from under the Tiny Bronco, searching for his flathead and found nothing. After several minutes of searching, a few curses, and banging his head on the wing, he pulled out and headed inside. He grabbed a towel as he walked in, wiping at the oil on his hands.
“Shera! You seen my 6″ flathead? The damn thing is missin’.”