A dot around affect of a place known to euthanasia is not in Asia altogether. People in the ‘euthanasia’ agreement are often familiar (to me) but with more supportable references of (all our) character. Reverence goes with laurel discretion and sealing a marvel that provides relief. Dignifairies have a spiritual duty to a daringly subtle catastrophe disappearance service. If a person passes you in the corridor, return to your room. Brushing your teeth is cruel to be kind.
It’s 35 years ago, a day on the brink of going back to boarding school with a ‘last request’ mother lasagna and chocolate mousse. A chain gang arrive in chains and boiler suits. A Pickfords van unloads from HMP, just as people are cut out in paper chains. They stand and wait along the black and white kitchen corridor, smelling a bit. The flagged patio above the Old Victorian sewer had been laid with tarpaulin. We are to lead them out with a sheepdog and carry on weeding as proceedings get faded back against a shimmering mirage. By height order they again line up, and the tallest shot are spared.
20 years ago, there may have been fewer arrangements to die in group volumes. Operational words were then as close to Botox. Singly ones and twos. The slumped figure of a bag in the linen cupboard can probably be cleared by Monday. Blink science changes by a sub world with a tier of separation in the same place as a double decker. Did anyone go up the back stairs past the boiler room? There is a clean up beam me up. Work repairs go for the poltergeist. In the late 90s the qualified whippet nurse did herself in. She may have been near the truest voluntary staff, surrounded as she was by ordinary and serial killer soul studies.
A place can be a study, a makeshift hospital, a mortuary, and a bouncing sex cone. Volunteers make an exit, and they reach ascension by people bonking in an adjacent training bed, or at least nearby to a baby monitor. When making explorations, goths and extremely professional in charge weirdos phase in and out with turn ups. People can carry on in refusing to accept.
One family does live in the same house as another and they never meet.
10 years ago we decided to downscale the venue by including me to be dressed up as a storm trooper, in order to curb suspicious meeting activities. Helmet ear muffs made things quiet with no one around. In the afternoon we sprayed bullets left right and centre enlarging window frames and taking out pillars, pictures and china.
Everything was restored within a matter of days with the exception of a bunch of kitchen mugs. There happens to be a warehouse within reach of Auchtermuchty that contains duplicate objects for this purpose.
Garden chase terminations have since been reduced, but the ever ready supposing trench is still open on the path up and to the right of the sun dial.
With so many ill conditions, the answer is who lives.
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