MathJax

Τετάρτη 29 Μαρτίου 2017

Where bile dwells


The hoodlum swilled a lot of booze. After he swinged his vessel down a muddy path, arrived swaying before a glorious sun. Stomping with his inner rattle, ended up spluttering and twitching. The gurgling of the cold flow nearby, witnessed a source of survival. His thirst would no longer sway. Snooping around the wood made his angst bland. He would have possessed something to brag about, bit later, when he would meet with the rest of the hecklers. At the moment, there were far more essential disputes over yonder: he needed sating his hunger.

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