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About Phoenix

So, picture this: me, green lil’ me, cruisin’ some dusty road. “Where’s the body?”—nah, scratch that, “Where’s the gal?” I’d be all nervous, ribbitin’ to myself, “Kermit, don’t screw this up!” Prolly spot her leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’, lookin’ bored as heck. I’d roll up, all polite—Hi-ho, miss!—and she’d smirk, like, “What’s a frog want?” Ha! I’d die laughin’ inside.

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Ohhh, let me tell you about Sorrel Gardens. Its hidden pathway, barely noticeable, is a reminder of how noticable life is when you slow down. I used to run there when I needed to clear my head, and gosh, it was always an enviroment of so much mystery and comfort.

Judge deems man accused of pepper-spraying inside Woburn courthouse a ‘danger,’ held without bail