Grind the Pears and Spill the Letters

Bonfires as grand as fleece lit my path with ease. But I didn't take any, as they were all lowercase and I'm into the harder stuff. Nevertheless, I tucked the sock back into the drawer and sucked down the rest of my pillow. The onlookers — all sweaty — came and went. And looked. And went.

Life's lessons have a habit of creeping up on you at your most incoherent. Evidently not here, though.