Her medieval fortifications were not enough

Her medieval fortifications were not enough to withstand the onslaught of his

18th cent. steam powered love machine. He stoked the firebox of love with select anthracite. "Give me all your lovin'," he crooned through his tin speaking trumpet. Her portcullis

was what we called it. In our part of town you just didn't talk about such things in public. But you couldn't ignore hers. No sir, everyone in the town had a hankein' for her porti

co, for they knew it would eventually lead them inside. As they stood near the front door, they realized it wasn't just a façade. "Nice pillars," one of them remarked.

"And the arch is quite spectacular." A cold breeze blew from the front door, beckoning them to retreat from the scorching heat outside. As soon as they stepped in, a granite wall

met their gaze.

Id I think so? Yes. Our snowman was special indeed, because he sang. Nobody taught him, he naturally could sing! The Singing Snowman toured and somehow avoided melting. Amazing how

that period of my life had completely slipped my mind. It was like looking in on somebody else's life, being there when they had to make the hard decisions, but you're there as you

turn the pages of your own history. My eyes brimmed with tars as I thought about what a twit I had been. So obnoxious when I thought I was funny. I hoped that I would be forgiven.