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So I've got a job.I work at the Sweethearts Wedding Chapel and Rose Eren Bridal shop, I work 6 days a week, from 11 AM to 7 PM, I get one day off. This means a seriously lack in art; so I apologize dearly to you guys I wont be as active! But the good news is, I make 800$ a month, just from going, and I get more if I book weddings [15% of it i think, that or its 30% I cant remember] plus I will be a Photographer for weddings and walk-ins, and if I rent/sell a gound/tux or something. Plus my Boss buys me lunch and treats me like her grand daughter aha, she bought me lunch today and gave me a granola bar [which i didnt even eat I was too busy working on her website which she was proud of me for, I also fixed her computer awyesss she really likes me] so in the end this is a great opportunity, hopefully soon I can get a car and save up for an apartment, and if I ever look for a different job being a wedding coordinator, hostess, and photographer is a good job experience for resumes uvu
anyway im going to spe
Bo.When Lindsay was born, Bo was there. Standing beside her mother, he was the first thing she ever saw. But he was not her father; her father stood on the other side.
Bo was there until the very moment she died.
The sun shone bright through the windows of her pink-laden room. She loved pink. And black.
“Because Bo is black,” she’d told her parents.
Her imaginary friend, they soon concluded.
“Bo is all black,” she described one night as her father tucked her in, “His skin and his hair and everything. He doesn’t talk a lot.”
Her father frowned.
“He sounds scary.”
“He’s not,” she insisted.
Bo sat on the bed and said nothing.
Her father kissed her good night and turned out the light.
“Why can’t Dad see you?” she asked.
“Are you real?”
“Are you real?” he replied.
“How do you know?”
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