© 2010 Stinus Lysdal Savitsky Patel. All rights reserved. 6

Rosewater unplaced

The dark hallway plunged the idea that a spatial radical movement would lurk some devils out in the outside daylight. Unfortunately the number 44 followed every step of the way, like flying teapots is a proof of nothing. The smell of fried fish blended with rosewater unplaced any dreams underlying as tones in the search for coherence.

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