These false claims are excellent and essential work.
Philosophy degrees are worth it.
It’s dry here. The wind is abrasive and thick with dust, and the horizon always seems too far away.
There’s a river but it cuts through a canyon, and the narrow pathway etched into those walls won’t soon irrigate these lands.
My gaze drifts and comes to rest on of the crude rickshaw I towed here. Time to find out if that hose is long enough.
Wait if I reply does it just do it?
Huh. Guess that’ll work.