A Desabafo
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A Desabafo

ARIAS STEAKS BALES OF HAY AND A BULL RIDDING BARTENDER

The strings on my cello gently weep (Chapter VI)

It turned out that mom’s first Cirdea’s Steakhouse franchise had just opened in the city. Dad, always looking to squeeze as much “utility” out of every situation, had booked our flight so that on our way back, he could stop by and “give the place a once-over” and save mom, and himself, the added cost of a proper visit.

The strings on my cello gently weep (Chapter VI)

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A L B E R T I☆R O M A N I

A L B E R T I☆R O M A N I

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Software Eng. ML/AL Researcher. Composer. Hyper Polyglot. Content Creator. NW AB