It's friction. Maybe not friction that matters, but friction nonetheless.
So I averaged a B- for 2018. Oof. That F really hurts me, you know?
The bends are sharp, the canyons are dark, and we can't see what's up ahead.
I've been promising this one for a while.
That's the beauty of NaNoWriMo: your job is to write.
I feel this vague unease while contemplating the day before me: I don't know what I'm going to do with myself.
Elena's really a lousy soldier. I love her with all my heart, but she should've been a freighter jock instead.