This is a mystery tale—one that takes place deep in the heart of Minneapolis, Minnesota, on a little chunk of land called Nicollet Island. Back when I was six (or seven, maybe), my family went there for Mother’s Day Brunch, and it was there, on the petrichor shores of the Mississip’, that I was murdered.
My dude, this was so good and unexpected. I thought I was gonna click in and catch up with some illustrations, but instead I found a story better than anything I've read lately. This was just excellent.
I truly enjoy these diary entries Kevin and I applaud you for getting to the root of the mystery even if it didn’t lead to some grand celebration! I love that you called your mom and the conversation you had. Maybe that’s the grand part of it, a small moment of connection and understanding. Thanks for the good read while I had my morning coffee. I will never serve anything to you on a floral plate 😉
Sorry you got Havishamed, but this was a delightful read! Makes me wonder what deep-seated neuroses my kids must be battling when I think they're just being little twits ;)
My dude, this was so good and unexpected. I thought I was gonna click in and catch up with some illustrations, but instead I found a story better than anything I've read lately. This was just excellent.
Nice! I WAS worried that the drawing-to-writing ratio was too radical, so I'm relieved to hear it was not disappointing! :D
I truly enjoy these diary entries Kevin and I applaud you for getting to the root of the mystery even if it didn’t lead to some grand celebration! I love that you called your mom and the conversation you had. Maybe that’s the grand part of it, a small moment of connection and understanding. Thanks for the good read while I had my morning coffee. I will never serve anything to you on a floral plate 😉
Thank you, Kelly! I promise to never throw up on you!
Sorry you got Havishamed, but this was a delightful read! Makes me wonder what deep-seated neuroses my kids must be battling when I think they're just being little twits ;)