Category: picture, poetry, writing
George woke to the glow of his angel but didn’t stir. she noticed a horse going over a jump that went into a door in the wall like a slice of vegan food. I’m distinctly not supernatural, they thought, together with the clock of getting out of bed. Celia decided to roll over and sleep in. The swede couldn’t remember the dream, and there was a letter that ought to be addressed but not towards anyone ever met. Sinbad put on some moisturiser; she’d come in from gardening the curling stones.
Never mind the ache, I’m heading for insulation, said Pelvis to the headrest. How come the sympony is blighted on the waves, received the disobedient looker without plans.
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