By Jennifer Brookins

Mrs. Thrush sings the morning song, cocks her lovely head exhales her spotted cleavage. Dearest friends, herein lies the solution to the world’s problems: people should find a solitary place, open their mouths wide and holler so loud that everyone knows how miserable they are, have no money, their apartment doesn’t have an elevator, the kids never write; worst of all they’re sure someone gave them the dreaded coronavirus because everyone in the supermarket (or maybe the elevator) breathed on them. Dear Heart, please make friends with Mrs. Thrush in the hope she reveals her secret for leading a happy life. She wisely counsels: never fear turning the corner

© 2020 Jennifer Brookins

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