There is a part of town that someday might be the death of me. If not wholly consumed by its beauty, hopefully of pleasant equivalence. On this Mr. Cassette and I agree: the wandering country lanes in and around Westside High School possess us.
There is a part of town that someday might be the death of me. If not wholly consumed by its beauty, hopefully of pleasant equivalence. On this Mr. Cassette and I agree: the wandering country lanes in and around Westside High School possess us.
Long ago I accompanied my grandmother on a magical visit to the Swanson Towers, off of 84th Street. 8405 Indian Hills Drive, for those among us who require exactness. My grandmother was paying a call to a rather chic galpal and truthfully, this