It is, however, growing a fine mold.

Chia pattern baldness.
Someday there will be a cure.
(Today is not that day.)

Let's right this ship, er, train.

This story is like a little train.
It chugs along smoothly until it hits a penny someone has left on the tracks.
Then it derails.
Or falls off of the table.

Monday, Monday, Monday.

Why do I keep hitting these tear down paragraphs on Monday?