It was a scrape that he hardly noticed.

Sure, there was a bit of blood but it was

minor compared to most of the other cuts and bruises he acquired on his adventures.
There was no way he could know that the rock that produced the cut had alien
genetic material on it that was now racing through his bloodstream. He felt
perfectly normal and continued his adventure with no knowledge of what was about to
happen to him.
I don’t like cats and they don’t like me. I used to be allergic to them and I would
get stuffed up and have hives. That doesn’t seem to happen anymore. But I still
don’t like them. I lived with 3 cats that were not good at peeing in the litter
box. They seemed to find something important to me and pee on it. Most of the time
they peed on photographs or papers that would be ruined. Cats also bring fleas into
the house. There is nothing worse than having to flea dip cats and also flea bomb a
home. That is why I don’t like cats.
There are only three ways to make this work. The first is to let me take care of
everything. The second is for you to take care of everything. The third is to split
everything 50 / 50. I think the last option is the most preferable, but I'm certain
it'll also mean the end of our marriage.
Patricia's friend who was here hardly had any issues at all, but she wasn't telling
the truth. Yesterday, before she left to go home, she heard that her husband is in
the hospital and pretended to be surprised. It later came out that she was the
person who had put him there.