Skeeter time, and the living is sucky
Holden and I are both covered in mosquito bites. I catch him sitting there with a puzzled look on his face, scratching the little red bumps on his legs, wondering why on earth such an annoying sensation would be happening and not going away. You got my blood, kid. Sorry. In addition to the ones on my legs and arms, I’ve got three of them on my back. My back! The small part, where the…
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