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.
Instructing every sign to smile like amaranthine tokens of historical proportions, casting every actor as if needles on the inside if the t-shirt will ever …
Starring at the yellow substance pouring out of the jar into a blonde screaming like the chalk against the blackboard. Such painful memories of unfulfilled …
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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