A wall gets hit. Breaking into group sections of no accord. It’s goddamn temperament hurts me but I look straight up at it sort of like I was challenging a duel — I certainly was not. The male coughs, spitting stinking crap over me. Genuine sadness comes but one in a life and doesn’t even leave completely. It is rarely seen in real life though. If it does, it feels weird to not shake it off as though the scene was over. Be happy now. The wood cracks over my head; the wall takes the ceiling with it to the ground. Pain streaks down my wrist unbearably. I scream. Wrappings come apart.
RIVER BED 15
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