Michelle DeLuca

“It could get wrecked, stolen, scratched, breathed on wrong… a pigeon could shit on it! Who knows?”

I’m sitting here revamping my website, attempting to figure out how to add my new blog; however, the fifteen year old girls next door are driving their mother’s car up and down the driveway. With each attempt to straighten out the car, they brush up closer to the house. I can’t wait until they find the keys for their father’s porsche and go for a joy ride. I’m ready to make some popcorn and move my chair closer to the window.