Teeth

Ripe atmosphere for tornadoes today.

I am not pleased.

My worry-mites, however, are ecstatic.

They love to sink their creepy little teeth into doomy skies.

Munch-munch-munch-munch

You can hear the molar gnashing now.

Hope nobody breaks a bicuspid.

Snaggy-toothed worry-mites I could do without.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe

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