Write four lines of prose which have something to do with: eyelashes.
Don't ask. It's partially inspired by Max complaining about having an eyelash in his eye after dinner this evening. The rest of the inspiration is too convoluted to get into.
Hmm, the space bar on my laptop appears to be failing. Please no.
Getting up early for the market tomorrow, as we're being moved off Main Street for the annual Peachfest Parade. Which means unloading the truck upon arrival and then parking it elsewhere. So... good night.
Don't you bat those things at me. Even at this distance I can feel your lashes slashing into my skin. I will not forget what you have done to me, to my life.
Go find some other sucker - this one is done with you.