You grimace and kneel, as ice cold pickets lance into your wounds. Your experience was a prize, for others to boast about and grovel in joyful clamoring. This isn’t fair weather enough to get any results now brother. It couldn’t be more than two cents per call, surely not in the booth you were blessed with that shortage. The lightning struck, as the moment passed you by without truancy. Your measurements to me, what you do when you’re alone is a funny thing surely. You can’t find any flaw, you had no basis or any kind of evidence now. I flooded your storage drain, my coat pockets had change that was worth nothing to this machine. I hadn’t given an offering in some time, it made me run from its graceful light blindingly screaming for help.
Creator And Contributor- Chris Ballenger
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